Final Exam
by Magnusrae
Summary: A young archer wants to prove she is worthy of being the best of the best. But while her technical skills are great, she lacks the proper yu-yan attitude. Will traveling with a banished Prince help her find her true path? Season one; NO romance.
1. Prologue

**Final Exam**

**A/N: **This takes place during the Book of Water, shortly after "The Blue Spirit" chapter. It probably would have been more effective had I written this when the idea was originally conceived, which was before Book of Earth, but I was busy writing 'Erosion' at the time. It should be known that I don't know a great deal about archery. I did some research, but there will probably be some inaccuracies along those lines. I think we can all agree that the yu-yan don't necessarily adhere to realistic skill sets anyways. No romance, so don't get your Zutara hackles up. And no, the entire thing isn't in a first person point of view, just the prologue. Think of it like Katara's intro to Avatar.

Special thanks to AvidReaderAlso for remembering a character I mentioned in passing a long time ago.

**Rated: Teen **for language.

Disclaimer: Avatar, its characters and properties belong to Nickelodeon and not to me. This remains true for this chapter and every single chapter that follows.

**Prologue**

It is said that of all the people of the world, those born in the Nation of Fire are the most proud. We are fighters, with the determination to carry out whatever we start, and we have always been this way, even before the war. Only those born in our nation are blessed with _fire_, the superior element. Our benders are the only ones capable of manifesting their element as a physical extension of their own chi. It is that power, and the mastery of such that makes us strong as a people.

Perhaps that is why, in the Fire Nation, strength and power so often go hand in hand. Those who are smiled upon by the Sun Spirit, those who are blessed with strong bending skills, are rewarded with positions of importance in our Nation. They are our leaders. From the Fire Lord, who is said to be the mightiest bender of them all, to his Admirals and Generals; to be someone of _value_ in the Fire Nation, to be someone _worthwhile_, one almost has to have an alliance with the element of fire. Both of my parents were skillful benders and they were both officers in the Fire Lord's army. So you can imagine their disappointment when their first-born, Keisuke, and I both were born without a hint of their talent.

In the Fire Nation, those born without the ability to bend are often regarded as second class citizens. Unlike those blessed with fire, our usefulness to our nation is not immediately evident. Neither Mother nor Father was willing to wait to see if Keisuke or I would develop any skills of value. Foregoing their duties as parents to return to their vastly more important roles as soldiers, they left us both in the care of an aunt and uncle who also could not bend. I don't really remember them. But my older brother, who was six at the time, never forgot.

Our aunt and uncle were both busy people. They had found their niche in the Fire Lord's war machine by working in a local foundry, laboring from dawn to dusk to turn out weapons of iron and steel, since they could not be weapons themselves. Day by day, without reprieve, they would return home worn and tired, smelling of acrid smoke; the wear and tear of physical labor showing on their bodies. They were the living embodiment of our future as productive citizens of the Fire Nation.

They had little time to care for young children, but those born in a nation at war do not stay children for long. Keisuke took on household chores and other jobs he could handle and I became his omnipresent shadow. Throughout the days he would talk and I would listen, absorbing his words. Often he spoke of how unfair it was that he was born with such a disadvantage.

"We're _nobodies_," he would say, "And we're always going to be nobodies, just like Aunt and Uncle. We'll spend our days working until the day we die, and it will never be enough. Mother and Father will never come back, never look at us, never acknowledge us. No one will."

The veracity of Keisuke's words were reinforced by our treatment at the hands of those town children who could bend. Although the bullying wasn't directly condoned by the parents of the benders, neither was it condemned. With our own advocates so far away and our substitute caregivers busy at work, we learned to get by on our own. There was no choice in the matter; no one would defend children such as us, children so worthless as to be abandoned by our own parents.

Or at least, that is what my brother said.

Keisuke's feelings towards the people who gave us life were mercurial. One day would be spent cursing their names for discarding us; the next would bring bitter sobs as he mourned their absence. To me, Mother and Father were vague, formless memories; to Keisuke, they were both angels and devils.

As time slowly past, Keisuke's words became darker and more bitter. Then one day he was given a glimmer of hope. Three archers visited the town in which we dwelled; odd looking men dressed mainly in red-browns and tans. Exotic and fierce looking individuals whose stoic personalities contrasted with the warrior's paint on their faces, they wordlessly proceeded to put on a display of archery the likes of which we had never experienced outside a storybook.

Their unsmiling faces and narrowed eyes initially scared me, but my brother was instantly enamored. It was the first time we had ever seen skilled fighters who were not benders. Their dazzling display of talent proved that a non-bender could indeed be admired and respected; a person of value and importance in our nation where fire ruled extreme.

They spent the day displaying their skills, the watching crowd making up for their silence with gasps, cheers and wild applause. The archers shot at targets from seemingly impossible distances and positions, hitting dead center every time. They shot multiple arrows at a time, with the same results. With unflinching, steely gazes, the oddly attired men shot arrows at each other, the target snatching the loosed missile out of midair only to nock and return it to its sender in an impossible game of 'catch'.

At the end of the demonstration, the eldest of the three announced that the organization of archers known as the yu-yan was seeking applicants to take six years of training: five on Simetra Island, one in the field under the watchful eye of a fully trained yu-yan. Only those children from ten to twelve years of age who could demonstrate considerable skill with a bow would be accepted. The students would tough it out for six years of constant training, not leaving the island at all during the first five years. Of all the applicants accepted, only one or two would make the final cut to be deemed worthy of one on one training with a master yu-yan. Only the best of the best would succeed.

The older archer, his hair pulled back in a topknot and kept out of his face with a black headband, was brutally honest when describing the amount of determination, dedication and skill it took to endure the years of training. It didn't deter Keisuke in the slightest. The only thing that stopped him from signing on then and there was his age. At eight, he was too young; not to mention that he had only shot a bow once before.

Still, the yu-yan gave my brother something he had never had before: Hope.

Hope for a brighter future, without the mind-numbing labor our aunt and uncle endured. Hope for involvement in the war without becoming a sacrificial lamb on the frontlines, as non-benders often were.

His dreams were similar to those any child raised under such circumstances would have: he would meet our parents in the middle of a fierce battle, perhaps by saving their lives with his skills as an archer, then maybe save the day by winning the battle too. Silly, childish dreams; but neither one of us really understood what it meant to be yu-yan at the time.

For Keisuke, it was an out; a chance to prove his worth to our parents, a chance to _be_ someone.

After begging our uncle for a bow, he began to practice archery constantly, albeit very poorly at first. The twang of the bowstring became an omnipresent background noise. He carried his bow and quiver everywhere. His left forearm sported a nasty bruise from where the bowstring would occasionally strike against it; his fingers developed painful blisters from repetitively hooking and releasing the arrows. And yet, my brother was happier than I had ever seen him before.

And that made me happy too.

Three years his junior, I never-the-less struggled to do more and more of his chores so that he could spend more time with his bow. Whenever I could, though, I'd be with him, watching him practice archery, fetching his stray arrows, and most importantly, watching his contentment.

The combination of his determination and constant, tireless practicing paid off; at the tender age of ten, Keisuke was regarded as an accomplished archer in the town, often besting those teens on the verge of adulthood, and sometimes even experienced adult hunters. I was so happy for him, so proud; until the day finally came when the yu-yan returned. With our guardians' permission, Keisuke was accepted as a trainee and he left that very same night.

He never looked back.

Not once.

It was then that I realized something. All those years of listening to my brother's bitter words had given me no understanding of the emotions behind them. I had accepted the fact that my brother felt the way he did about our parents, but I had never truly comprehended it. After all, I hadn't been completely abandoned; I had always had Keisuke.

He was my family, my older brother, my world. As long as he had been by my side, the loneliness that had devoured him couldn't touch me.

And then he left. He packed up and left and never looked back at me. Not once. His eyes were firmly locked on the future and I was a part of his painful past. Was I really so worthless, so pathetic, to be deserted by the brother I adored? The only answer that presented itself was a harsh one. His bitter, caustic words now made sudden sense. I was nobody to him. I was nobody to the world. Just as our parent had cast us aside for more important work, so too had he left me.

How could I have been so blind and stupid?

Was this my future, to be all alone and unnoticed?

The whole time I had faithfully followed after my brother, had he ever seen me at all?

I didn't know. I didn't know anything. Only that it hurt. I had inherited Keisuke's place in the lonely darkness and I didn't like it at all. The thought of living without my brother, the thought of never seeing him again, terrified me as nothing else in my short life had. I didn't want to be alone, living out my life in this town. I had no desire to join the small flame of my life with countless other non-benders like my aunt and uncle, worthy of only menial, unrecognized labor.

No. If the sun of my life had gone somewhere else where I could no longer bask in his warmth and light, then I would simply have to follow. And this time, _this_ time I would prove myself worthy of his notice. I would be someone Keisuke could be proud of claiming, "_That_ is my _sister_." And if the world happened to notice me too, so much the better.

With a newfound purpose, I picked up his cast off practice bow and took the first steps in following after my brother. I practiced day and night, developing the same bruises and blisters that he had sported. I trotted down the path my brother had so boldly blazed, until three years slowly past and I too was old enough to be considered as a yu-yan trainee. I would show Keisuke; I would show the world.

My name is Shiori, and this is my story.


	2. Chapter one

**Chapter One**

The pastoral field had a beauty that would have made even the hardest of souls pause and smile. Tall wildflowers swayed and bowed their heads in honor of the breeze that rippled from one end of the field to the other. Birds, migrated from other, more seasonally afflicted parts of the world, called out from hidden locations; their joyous songs erupted from the tall grasses as if the terrain itself was singing. The sun's rays shone with gentle warmth; on a day like today it would be easy to believe that the Sun Spirit was giving a benediction.

All of this ambiance was lost, however, on the twelve students standing in a straight line in the center of the field. The young archers ranged in both size and age, but as their instructor counted off, they moved as one. It was a drill of unity and focus, one of many that the prospective yu-yan endured. Everything was in-sync; from their simultaneous actions right down to their rhythm of breathing. All the same, and all in time with their instructor's count.

"One… two… three… arrow.

One… two… three… draw.

One… two… three… release."

Keeping pace with the instructions, the students systematically reached into their quivers for arrows, smoothly nocked and drew back their bowstrings, and loosed their missiles. There was no room for thought, for variance, for individuality. The arrows flew across the field as one, and as one they struck dead center on twelve individual straw targets, halving the previously shot arrow.

Unlike a normal gathering of young teenagers, this group made no conversation. The only voice heard was that of the instructor. The slight twang of the bowstrings, the high-pitched whistle of twelve simultaneously released arrows and the sharp crack of splintered shafts made a mockery of the otherwise peaceful surroundings. Not that the students noticed such things anyways. They only had ears for their master.

Eyes narrowed from years of being a yu-yan archer, Master Shi-Yun kept a careful eye on his pupils. Not the protective eye of a mother hen; no, Shi-Yun's gaze could more appropriately be compared to that of a lion-hawk. He circled and watched, constantly seeking the weakest of the group to single out and descend upon. He paid only scant attention to the targets; students who couldn't consistently hit a bull's-eye after the third year were culled from the ranks before the beginning of the fourth year of training. These were mostly fifth years and at this range their level of accuracy should be a given.

No, Shi-Yun's watchful eyes were searching for inattentiveness, for any pupil who lagged behind or jumped ahead of his measured count. They had been shooting steadily for several hours now; arms were starting to tire, concentration was waning and sooner or later someone would slip. To be yu-yan meant to be the best of the best; the first to falter would incur an appropriate punishment.

Shi-Yun paused at the end of the row of students; he hesitated slightly before beginning his count again, looking for any who would start reaching for an arrow without his consent. A black brow furrowed down as no one moved. Giving a mental sigh that was tempered by a touch of teacher's pride, he commenced the drill again. The standard punishment for falling out of rhythm was an extra hour of obstacle course drills. He decided that if no one failed within the next half hour, the whole group would be subjected to that fate. After all, to be yu-yan was a constant striving towards perfection.

Standing at one end of the line, her back warm in the afternoon sun, fourteen old Shiori felt her patience begin to slip as Master Shi-Yun began his repetitive count for the umpteenth time. A tickle of breeze rippled across the surrounding grasses, tugging at a few stray strands of her shoulder-length, mouse-brown hair. Unable to brush the hairs out of her face, she narrowed her reddish-brown eyes in frustration as her nose started to itch. Her hair was straight, but also fine. Although she tried her best to keep it in a tight braid, more often than not it managed to escape its confinement, slipping around her headband to dance across her nose.

_This is so boring, _she thought rebelliously while reaching for yet another arrow. Normally Shiori enjoyed archery and making perfect shots usually gave her a thrill of happiness, but this monotonous exercise was definitely taking the joy out of the activity.

_They could have at least made the targets more challenging. _Located sixty yards away, the oft replaced circular targets were obscured only by the bowing heads of the tallest weeds. Of course, by now those obstacles had been mostly lopped off by the passing arrows' sharp heads.

_Booooring... _The thought was dangerous. She knew it would be enough to warrant a punishment if the instructor happened to see it in her eyes.

Shiori was of average height, but small in comparison to the eleven other students. It was a subtle clue to her status; the blatantly obvious one was the fact that her headband was the fourth year color of gold, rather than the red color that her fellow archers sported. She was one of the only fourth year students permitted to participate in the archery lessons of the fifth years, and Master Shi-Yun had made it no secret that he did not like it. He would need little excuse to punish her, most likely with calisthenics, tree climbing, or with the physically grueling obstacle course.

_Of course, anything would be better than standing here all day, making pointless shots. _

She released her arrow at the spoken command; it flew across the field to strike the nocked end of the preceding arrow, splitting it in twain and pushing part of it out the backside of the target. Piles of splintered arrows lay at the bases of the targets. They were the hard, hand-crafted work of the first and second year students; weeks of labor destroyed in a single afternoon. Shiori had lost count of how many had been shot this day, but she was mostly through her third bundle, which meant close to ninety.

The ache between her shoulder blades suggested that the lesson should be over soon. Master Shi-Yun would push then all to the breaking point, but never over it. None of the masters here were that cruel. Their goal, as they liked to remind the students every now and again, was to find the handful of individuals in each group who were actually worthy of joining their ranks and becoming yu-yan. At the end of each year of training, most of those who left the island were students who _chose_ to give up; the rest had failed that year's exam. Everything here was about training and perfection; even this: the repetitive and rhythmic nocking and shooting of arrows had value, although Shiori still hated this exercise.

"One… two… three… arrow."

"One… two… three… draw."

"One… two… three… release."

At the spoken command she let fly yet another arrow, watching as it split the last one embedded in the target. Her eyes narrowed minutely as the arrow did not split into even halves. Her lack of focus and muscle fatigue were beginning to be reflected in her accuracy. And if she noticed this, Master Shi-Yun surely would too.

She stood at the ready; her weight evenly distributed between her two feet, which had not shifted from the open stance she had assumed at the beginning of training. Shi-Yun paced back down the line of students. Tall and lean, he did not need the red hawk's design painted around his eyes to look fierce. His walk was slow, deliberate and the students could do nothing but remain at the archer equivalent of 'attention' until he gave word to do otherwise.

Shiori's back twitched as he came to stand behind her. She focused on keeping her breathing even and calm, although her heart beat a rising crescendo in her chest and her hand gripped the bow with far more force than necessary.

"Ren, that shot was unworthy. One extra hour obstacle course."

The words were spoken quietly, but everyone else in the group felt grateful that they were not the first to fall. Even though the temptation was to look towards the guilty one, their eyes remained riveted on their individual targets. The yu-yan did not falter because one of their own fell; they simply moved on.

Master Shi-Yun turned and began to pace back down the line of students, resuming his monotonous count.

Shiori allowed the breath she had been holding to hiss out. Her own shot had been worthy of a scolding. She wondered how much worse Ren's had been. This time she would make the shot perfect.

The instructor was spreading out his count now, making them freeze in place with the arrows drawn back to their faces. Shiori's back muscles protested the strain. She was pushing the bow away from her with the palm of one hand and pulling back the string with the other. The arrow, a mass of potential energy, lay between her first two fingers, nocked end tucked into the string, which in turn was latched onto the tips of her slightly bent digits. She breathed; it was important to breath, and held the pose as the seconds stretched and her body begged to release the tension.

A small blue form darted into her peripheral vision. She frowned, keeping her eyes focused on the target, but also remaining aware of the object. As Shi-Yun held his silence between the word "draw" and the beginning of the countdown to "release", Shiori risked a look. The small, brilliantly colored creature zigzagged from one flower head to the next, flying in seemingly random bursts and pauses. As it ceased its chaotic movements to hover in the air above a white daisy, Shiori's memory gave a sudden jolt. She had seen one of these before, with Keisuke, long ago.

It was a blue-throated hummingbee, a small nectar-drinking insect that was very rare in the Fire Nation. Their mother had apparently told Keisuke a story about the legend of the creatures; he had tried to recount it to her only to discover he had forgotten all the details.

Curiosity satisfied, she refocused on her target just as Shi-Yun resumed his count.

"One…"

"Two…"

The hummingbee entered her direct line of sight, hovering just to the right of her target before dropping directly below it.

"_Seeing a blue-throated hummingbee is special, Shiori, because… because…" the earnest smile faded as the boy searched for the reason. A cloud passed over the formerly eager features; tears suddenly began to rain down._

"Three…"

"_Because _Mom_ said so…"_

The girl gave herself a mental shake, bringing her target back into sharp focus. Only that mattered, only the end of the last arrow. Everything else became an indistinct blur.

"Re…"

As Shi-Yun began to pronounce the last syllable of the word, a small spot of blue once again entered her narrow view. Judging by its movement, she knew there was no hope for it.

"…lease."

A fraction of a second. She held on to her arrow for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for the creature to move out of her way. Shiori noted with satisfaction that despite all the distractions, _this _time her arrow hit dead on. The hummingbee was disturbed by the arrow's passing, but it was unharmed. Keisuke would have been proud, she was sure. Unfortunately, the price of its tiny life had been to throw off her timing for a fraction of a second and that, _that _was what Shi-Yun noticed.

"Shiori, your timing was off. One extra hour obstacle course."

"But…" Unable to help herself, the fourteen year old began to protest. After all, it wasn't as if she hadn't been paying attention. She had thrown off her shot deliberately in order to spare the hummingbee's life.

One of her hands flew up to cover her mouth as her ruddy eyes widened. Talking without permission was expressly forbidden to the students on Simetra Island. Only when directly queried by one of the instructors could a trainee speak. It was a basic rule, one of the first taught to the students when they began their training and one that remained in effect throughout the duration of their five years on the island. Even full-fledged yu-yan often maintained their habit of silence after their final year of apprenticeship.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ Shiori cursed herself as she stood frozen, waiting for Shi-Yun's anger to descend upon her. To break such a basic rule, it was beyond careless of her, but to do so in front of Shi-Yun of all people… that was just plain idiocy. Especially given the way he felt about her "special" status of being allowed to train along side his fifth year students.

She could feel his gaze boring into her, even without raising her eyes from their locked position on the ground. The cheerful songs of the birds seemed to mock her as the silence amongst the archers stretched.

_Stupid, _she cursed again, awaiting her punishment.

"One extra hour of obstacle course and one extra hour of calisthenics."

She breathed a sigh of relief. That wasn't so bad. Sure, she would be sore and tired afterwards, but the so-called punishment would only serve to make her stronger in the long run. One step closer to becoming a true yu-yan.

"And we will be discussing your behavior with Master Zorin."

Shiori flinched as the proverbial "other arrow" fell. Master Zorin was the head instructor on Simetra Island. It was by his good graces that she was permitted to improve her technical skills with the fifth years; without them she would have to rejoin the forth years, or worse, leave the island entirely.

Shi-Yun squinted up at the sun. "That is enough for today. Clean up the broken arrows and report for dinner. Ren, Shiori, I'll see you two on the obstacle course directly after."

The students made no response. They simply abandoned their stances and moved forward to start collecting the valuable metal arrowheads. The splintered shafts were placed into the nearly empty quivers. No one spoke, not even after Master Shi-Yun departed the field. No one offered sympathetic glances to the ones that had failed. Everyone on the field had the same goal: to become a yu-yan archer, but only a few of them would make it. Only the very best of the best. That made everybody else indirect competition.

As Shiori finished placing the pieces of broken arrows back into her quivers and began to disassemble her target, she wondered if her brother had ever been in this much trouble. Probably not, she decided. After all, Keisuke had already graduated. He was already yu-yan.

_A/N: The book "Bow and Arrow" by Larry Wise was used to determine the archery specifics presented in this chapter, including distance and number of arrows shot._


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Two extra hours of training under Shi-Yun's watchful eyes had left Shiori's muscles tired and sore. That didn't stop her from tensing them up as she knelt in Master Zorin's study, listening in silence as Shi-Yun recounted her sins for the day. Listen was all she could do; her biggest crime wasn't shooting off key, but in uttering the protestation.

She kept her hands resting on her folded knees and her eyes firmly locked on her hands. Unable to express herself verbally, Shiori knew that her eyes and facial expressions would probably be revealing an intolerable amount of defiance. Given the tone of Shi-Yun's speech, any hint of provocation on her part would only serve to underscore his hateful words.

"Her technical skills are great; there is no question on that, Master Zorin, but her level of discipline is lacking. She may have the talent of a fifth year student, but even a first year knows better than to offer a rebuttal to an instructor. This isn't the first occurrence either. It's disruptive to my class and unworthy behavior for a prospective yu-yan."

"Hm." Master Zorin's one syllable response made Shiori flinch. "Your recommendation?"

"That she be sent back to the fourth years. Archery skills aside, she simply does not have the attitude of a yu-yan. At this rate she'll never pass the final exam."

"Thank you, Shi-Yun. You may leave now."

Shiori kept her gaze down as the tall archer left the room; she heard a long sigh from the head instructor.

"Very well, Shiori; let me see your face."

Having no choice but to comply, the girl attempted to school her expression into something neutral before lifting her eyes. Unfortunately, being fourteen meant that her mastery of such skills was limited.

Master Zorin was the oldest yu-yan on the island. The yu-yan as a group did not have ranks, but all the other instructors bowed to his experience. Shiori could see why. Although his hair was as white as steam, his eyes were still brilliantly sharp. The irises were black, but the pupils and outer rims were encircled with red, as if the Sun Spirit had painted a bull's-eye onto his very orbs. His face could be compared to a hawk; long and lean with a sharp nose and high cheek bones all set atop of a body best described as wiry.

Despite his age, Zorin was a true yu-yan. When Shiori had been a first year he had given an eye opening demonstration of the skills they would be expected to learn. One of the things he had done was to pin a fly to a tree from one hundred yards away, by its wings, deliberately not killing it. Every time Shiori was brought before Master Zorin, she felt like that fly.

"I see fire in your eyes, Shiori. Master Shi-Yun's opinion does not impress you."

The student scowled. She hated the apparent ease in which Zorin could read her.

The old man gave her a smile that was not entirely unkind. "Talking back to an instructor was a foolish act, but you know that; don't you? As this isn't the first time, I suppose I could dismiss it as simple recklessness on your part… but you've never been overly reckless before. Impatient, yes, but not reckless. Perhaps it would help if we got to the root of the problem. Shiori, tell me why your shot was out of time with the others."

The child blinked; she had not expected to be given the opportunity to explain herself. She cleared her throat nervously. "There was a blue-throated hummingbee, sir. It was in my way."

Master Zorin raised a thin white brow at her. "Are you saying that you deliberately threw off your timing in order to avoid killing an insect?"

The girl nodded. "A _hummingbee_, sir," she reiterated. "They're supposed to be special. My brother told me so, sir." She fell silent, not wanting to reveal that it had been the memory of Keisuke crying that had stayed her arrow.

The head instructor sighed; he leaned against his small wooden desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he regarded the slight form kneeling before him._ Keisuke again, eh? _

"Hm. It takes a certain amount of talent to time your shot in order to avoid hitting such an erratically moving object. It speaks well of your skills as an archer. However, by throwing off your shot to spare the life of an insect and by offering a rebuttal to your instructor, you've proven Shi-Yun's position as well. You don't have the proper temperament to become a yu-yan archer."

Shiori's mouth dropped open, ready to adamantly protest this abhorrent judgment of her character. Then her mouth snapped silently shut. Zorin gave her a slightly approving look.

"Well, at least it seems you can learn from past mistakes. Perhaps not all hope is lost for you yet."

The master straightened and moved to one of the walls of his study. The room itself was sparsely decorated; the Fire Nation insignia was hung on one wall, as were a map of the world and a smaller, more detailed map of Simetra Island. A picture of Fire Lord Ozai kept watch from the wall directly behind Zorin's desk. Some bookshelves were spotted about the room, as if Zorin couldn't quite decide where to put them. The wall he approached was, in Shiori's youthful opinion, the coolest wall. Bows hung there, some simple, some ornate, but all of them yu-yan weapons. The white-haired instructor touched one gently with a finger, lightly tracing its arced surface.

"Tell me, Shiori, what does it mean to be yu-yan?"

The girl cocked her head to one side; she shifted her gaze from the wall back to her hands.

To be yu-yan? It meant _everything_ to her. It meant that her fire bender parents would see that she had grown into someone worthwhile. It meant freedom from an existence of drudgery, like that endured by her aunt and uncle. But if she was to be honest with herself, Shiori knew those weren't the true motivating forces behind her actions.

It was her brother, her beloved Keisuke, whom she wanted to impress. The memory of the day he had left for his yu-yan training, with nary a backwards glance, was permanently burned into her mind. She had always looked up to her brother, had always followed faithfully in his footsteps. Now she wanted to walk by his side as an equal. She wanted him to _see_ her, to acknowledge her existence, to be proud of their relation. And nothing,_ nothing _was going to stand in the way of that.

"Shiori?"

Her head jerked back up to see Master Zorin regarding her with his oddly colored eyes. Apparently, she had been silent for too long. She unclenched her hands, which had unconsciously tightened into fists. Once he was certain that she was paying attention, the head instructor smiled at her.

"Perhaps I should rephrase the question. What are the yu-yan?"

That one was easy to answer. "The best archers in the world."

Zorin's smile widened. "Yes, but why? What makes us different from other archers?'

The kneeling girl's brows furrowed down as she considered the question. Zorin saved her the trouble.

"We are _weapons_, Shiori. Through training we become one with our bows. It is simple to say, but I'm not sure that you understand what it really means." His hawk-like gaze shifted back to his wall of bows, all of them crafted by his own two hands. "To become a weapon, we have to give up on certain things. One of which is our individuality. Even a common foot soldier can question his commander, should he think that circumstances demand it, but we yu-yan are very much like our bows."

Zorin's thin hands selected a weapon. None of the bows were strung; he attached the bowstring as he talked. "A normal soldier will hesitate, even if only for a second, in the midst of a battle to consider his options: to kill, or to main, or to capture unharmed. To fight or to flee. To aim for the legs or aim for the heart. There are an infinite amount of choices in any given situation and while most soldiers can think quickly on their feet, such choices slow them down."

Zorin completed stringing the bow; he strode over to his desk, reached behind it and pulled out an arrow fletched in red. "We yu-yan are not affected by these concerns, because we do not consider them. We serve one commander, who tells us exactly what to do, and we do it without worrying about whether or not it is right or wrong. We are _weapons_, Shiori. Much like this bow, we don't care who we are pointed at, or why."

In a movement too quick for her eye to follow, the yu-yan master nocked and shot his arrow. The missile embedded itself in the wood planking between her knees. Shiori felt a trickle of cold sweat run down her back as she stared at the red fletching vibrating just under her nose. She hadn't even seen the shot fired.

"Much of the training done here isn't just about improving your skills as an archer, but about preparing you for a life of following orders without question. We yu-yan are the best of the best because we give up something very precious: our conscience. Just like our bows, we are cold, efficient killers_. That_ is what it means to be yu-yan."

Master Zorin's red rimmed orbs stared at the girl. She was fixated on his arrow, wide-eyed; at the moment looking nothing like the yu-yan archer she so desperately desired to be. But the elderly man knew that desire alone would probably not be enough to carry her the distance. And the Sun Spirit help her if it did.

"Shi-Yun's words may have sounded harsh to you, but he is actually showing you a kindness. To become yu-yan when one does not have the spirit of a weapon; that would be a horrible fate. Far better for all involved if you quit while you can."

Shiori's gaze shot up; the fear she felt for an untimely dismissal far greater than that for her own life. In the candlelight, her reddish-brown eyes had momentarily taken on the color of dried blood.

"No," she gasped, unconsciously springing to her feet. "Master Zorin, please! Next time I'll kill the hummingbee and anything else that gets in my way. Please don't send me home!"

"Shiori!"

The sharply spoken word cracked like a whip, driving the girl back to her knees in a heartbeat. Her passion drained away along with the blood in her checks. Once again she had stupidly spoken out of turn.

"Shiori," the name was spoken softer this time, "whether or not you become yu-yan is a question that only you and the spirits can answer. I want you to meditate on what I have told you; think hard about the sacrifice of spirit that you will have to make in order to achieve your goal. You can do this while you spend the next two weeks studying with the first years."

He watched as she turned her face up towards him, easily reading the multitude of emotions that flickered across it. "If you cannot remember first year lessons, then you will have to repeat them."

The fourteen year old rose to her feet and silently bowed to the headmaster. He watched as she padded from the room, waiting until she left before reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose. It seemed such a waste that the spirits would give such talent and desire to one without the proper temperament to be yu-yan. Her brother hadn't been nearly this difficult. He had possessed some anger issues, but they had dissipated after he had passed a specially modified version of the fourth year exam. Freed from his pent up feelings of resentment and inferiority, the boy had become a quintessential yu-yan.

Zorin sighed and shook his head. "Oh Shiori, what am I to do with you?"

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**A/N: **I was going to title all my chapters, but I really have no knack for the task. So, back to simple, numbered chapters. Next up: Zuko.

Thanks for taking the time to read!


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Remember, friends, this is Book of Water and Zuko served as one of the main antagonists for that season. In other words, this takes place before he developed his more conflicted nature. Just a reminder...

**Chapter Three**

Iroh, former General and heir to the Fire Nation throne, current uncle and teacher to a banished Prince, blew the steam off the top of his cup of tea before tilting the delicate china to his lips. He did so partially because he really did enjoy savoring the unique flavors that each cup of tea brought to him, but mostly to hide his disappointment at the debacle occurring on the forward deck of the small battleship.

His nephew and student, Prince Zuko, was drilling a battle kata for the fifth time. Unfortunately, it didn't take an eye as skilled as Iroh's to see that no improvement had been made from the first time he had attempted the exercise. The teen's moves were still reactionary instead of anticipatory; his counter attacks were effective only because of the amount of energy being put behind them. In short, if the moves hadn't been previously determined, his nephew would have been in a world of trouble.

After the final shots of flame were exchanged, Prince Zuko and his two sparring partners for the day turned to look expectantly at Iroh. He set his cup of tea down and plastered a polite smile on his face.

"Very good. That will be all for today."

Freed from having to repetitively spar with the irritable heir, the two soldiers exited the deck with barely suppressed enthusiasm. Zuko's eyes narrowed; he folded his bare arms in front of his chest and glared at his uncle. Iroh took it as a good sign that the teen at least understood that his performance did not merit a passing grade. And he was quite right. Normally Iroh would have made him repeat the drill until some sign of improvement was shown, but the former Dragon of the West had decided that until the source of the Prince's frustration was uncovered, no progress could be expected.

"Prince Zuko," he called while patting a section of deck next to him, "why don't you come have a cup of tea with me."

"I don't _need_ any tea!"

The teenager turned his back on his uncle, standing strong and straight next to the starboard rail of the ship's bow. For a moment he lingered there, proud and angry, but Iroh could see the slight softening of his posture, the minute forward slumping of his shoulders as the burden he carried settled around him like an invisible cloak. The men of the ship were conspicuously absent, leaving nephew and uncle in relative peace.

Iroh sipped his tea and waited. Patience was a virtue he had in abundance. In the end he was rewarded. The Prince of the Fire Nation abandoned the lonely rail for a seat on the metal deck, though still far enough away from the table to avoid appearing conciliatory.

"What seems to be troubling you, my nephew?"

Silence and an all too familiar scowl was the only response.

"Is it Zhao's promotion?"

It wasn't exactly a difficult guess for the experienced man to make; the teen's reaction served as an instant confirmation. Springing back to his feet, Zuko's thin form began to restlessly pace the deck, reminding the still seated Iroh of a wild beast in captivity. Of course, in a way, he was a captive. And that was the problem.

"_How?_ How can I beat him, Uncle? He has so many resources now. I just have one ship. How can I capture the Avatar before Zhao?"

"Ah, Prince Zuko. Which is the easier predator to avoid in a forest: a rampaging sabertooth lion-moose, or the small but deadly iguana-viper? Having more numbers does not necessarily mean that Zhao will win. In fact it may end up being a disadvantage."

Zuko ceased his pacing to lean against the port rail. "It's not just quantity of men, Uncle. He has quality too. Like the yu-yan archers."

Iroh raised a brow. "The yu-yan? Where did you hear this?"

Zuko's back suddenly stiffened; he remained staring out to sea while trying to come up with an answer that was not quite a lie. He certainly couldn't tell his uncle that he found out while masquerading as a thief, especially since the 'Blue Spirit' was rumored to have freed the Avatar from Zhao's imprisonment. It had been then that Zuko had discovered the skill of the yu-yan. A small unit of them had gone out and accomplished with archery what no bender had been capable of: successfully capturing the Avatar.

"I, uh, overheard it at our last port of call."

Zuko could feel Iroh's eyes staring at his back. The statement wasn't entirely untrue; it had been at their last port that he had taken one of the small landing vessels and had embarked on a secret spying mission on Zhao. The newly appointed Admiral was a sneaky, underhanded bastard, in Zuko's opinion; a rival necessary of keeping his eye on. At that point in time he had no way of knowing that spying on Zhao would lead him to aid the Avatar.

"I see." Iroh's neutral, baritone voice startled Zuko out of his contemplation. "I'm surprised that Colonel Shiloh would give them up, although I suppose as an Admiral, Zhao could have pulled rank on him. That's too bad. The yu-yan are most definitely an asset. Er, not that you can't still beat Zhao, Prince Zuko. Never give up hope."

The older man took a sip of tea to recover from his slip-up. Zuko remained at the portside rail, watching as the water smoothly parted before the metal bow of his ship. He was moving forward, but was he really getting anywhere?

"Heh, heh, you know, I used to be good friends with a boy who went on to become a great yu-yan archer."

Zuko suppressed the urge to slump at the rail. Sometimes he could swear that his uncle talked just to hear the sound of his own voice. What difference did it make if he _used_ to know a yu-yan? What was important was the here and now and capturing the Avatar. Nothing else mattered; why couldn't his uncle see that?

"We've kept in touch over the years; he's the head instructor for all the yu-yan now."

Iroh took a sip of his tea. He lowered his cup and blinked in surprise. Somehow his nephew had transported himself from the rail to a spot next to him on the deck in the blink of an eye. Gone was the sour, defeated look; now Zuko's eyes burned with an eager excitement.

"You know the head yu-yan? Why didn't you say something before? With him on my side, I can get all the archers I need to capture the Avatar."

"Eh? No, no, Prince Zuko, you misunderstood. The yu-yan don't have ranks like regular soldiers; they are all equal. And they will only take orders from one person and one person only. Unfortunately, that person is now Admiral Zhao."

"But you said…"

"I said I am friends with the head _instructor_; that is all. I am sorry. I did not mean to get your hopes up."

Zuko rose from the deck; the eagerness on his face quickly replaced by anger. "Then why did you say anything at all?" the teen shouted, wisps of smoke drifting out of his mouth. "Unless it has to do with capturing the Avatar, I don't want to know about it."

The Fire Nation Prince stalked away; he was too old to stomp, but Iroh could still feel the vibrations from his heavier than normal footsteps through the metal deck. The former General sighed as the heavy footsteps rapidly faded away. He forgave his nephew for the outburst. Zuko was going through a difficult time, and it had changed him somewhat from the boy he had once been. Iroh knew that the blame did not lie within the boy's own spirit, but elsewhere.

He had been burned and banished from all he knew at the tender age of fourteen. Two years had been spent searching aimlessly for an Avatar that did not seem to exist, and now that hope had been found in the form of a twelve year old airbender, it seemed to be constantly snatched from under Zuko's nose. The fact that Zhao, an adult, a master firebender and an Admiral, was determined to beat Zuko to his prize wasn't helping matters at all.

Iroh leaned back to stare at the azure sky, the vast expanse of blue only broken by faint translucent clouds here and there. Zuko was only sixteen, too young to understand that life was like a journey on a long and winding road. And like any journey of distance, one was bound to discover both smooth sections and rough patches. Unfortunately, the teen was on a prolonged rough patch. Iroh could do nothing to end Zuko's banishment; the Prince's honor could only be restored if and when he captured the Avatar. As a retired General and an uncle, he was there to provide guidance and support only.

Iroh's gaze shifted back down to the still empty deck. He rubbed on his beard. Of course, everyone could use a helping hand every now and again.

"I suppose a letter couldn't hurt anything. We are old friends, after all." Iroh muttered to himself. The Dragon smiled, and took another sip of tea.

----------------------------------------------------------------

_This is so boring, _Shiori's mind complained as her hands continuously moved through the seemingly endless task of sanding arrow shafts. She had thought it odd, her first time around, that one had to prove their skills with a bow and arrow in order to be considered for yu-yan training, but the first year of said training consisted of doing everything _but _shooting a bow and arrow. Instead, first year students spent most of their time learning how to make the tools of their trade, as well as performing a variety of exercises intended to build up their stamina and endurance. It was heartbreaking to some students that archery simply wasn't on the agenda. That and the rule of silence probably accounted for the large drop out rate for first years.

Shiori carefully inspected the cedar shaft she had been sanding. Deeming it smooth enough, she placed it in the 'done' pile in the center of the long, wooden workbench and started another. Each workbench seated four students, two to a side, and there were twenty workbenches in all in the large, rectangular building. In the beginning of the year, all the positions were filled; at the end, only about half the seats would be occupied. The classes grew smaller and smaller as each year passed, usually only two or three ended up passing the fifth test and moved on to train directly under a yu-yan archer out in the real world.

_And I will be one of those students, _Shiori thought fiercely. _I have the skills; all I have to do is work on my attitude. If Keisuke can be a weapon, then so can I! Nothing will stand in my way._

She felt eyes upon her; one of the first year students seated on the opposite side of the workbench was staring at her again. Her presence amongst the first years had garnered a lot of gawks and snickers at first. Children forbidden to speak or ask questions were left with few options for communication. She had dealt with this unwanted attention to her punishment by ignoring it; what else could she do? Now that a week had passed though, she found the gazes to be increasingly annoying.

At the age of fourteen, Shiori was taller than almost all the first years, even though she was of average height for her age. She sat ram-rod straight on her stool; posture was important for good archery, a lesson that most of the bent over amateurs had yet to learn. Narrowing her eyes and thinning her lips in an expression she hoped would make her look more like a true yu-yan; she raised her eyes to meet those of a dark-haired boy.

He jerked at the unexpected contact, but didn't look away. "Loser," he mouthed silently, causing the other two students at the table to break out in giggles. That was their downfall. One of the four instructors assigned to this year group descended on the table in a flash. Faced with the scowl of a genuine yu-yan, the first years quickly directed their attention back to the task of sanding arrow. The teacher gave Shiori a pointed look, as if she were the sole cause of the trouble, before drifting away.

The fourth year student suppressed a sigh. She brushed a strand of straight brown hair back behind one ear before continuing on with her task of sanding the cedar shaft in her hands. It wasn't until she was sure that the instructor's attention was elsewhere that she used her longer legs to her advantage and planted a sharp kick into the shin of the dark-haired boy.

"Ow!" came the exclamation; and, true to their nature, one of the adults reappeared at the long wooden table.

"Thirty push-ups, Shun," was the punishment for the spoken word, child's play compared to the discipline Shiori was used to. Still, she almost felt sorry for the younger boy as he was escorted away from the workbench.

_Being yu-yan isn't supposed to be easy; better to learn the lesson now than later. _Oblivious to the fact that her own thoughts were shallower echoes of the sentiments expressed by Shi-Yun and Master Zorin, Shiori continued with the mind-numbing task of sanding arrow shafts. The other two first years had put their noses to the grindstone too, lest they attract the undue attention of the already quick to pounce instructors.

The fourteen year old girl was still feeling a little bit regretful for her actions against the first year boy, despite her best efforts to suppress them. _He looked a little bit like Keisuke, _she thought with a wistful smile.

Her memories of her older brother were becoming slightly fuzzy with time; in fact the last time she had seen him had been towards the end of her second year of training. Keisuke's hair was darker than hers, a rich mahogany which highlighted to best advantage under the light of the sun. His eyes took after those of their fire bender parents, more red than brown, with a hint of gold playing through them. Although she had kept on the lookout for her elder bother since arriving on the island, Shiori had only seen him once.

The memory of the incident was etched in her mind. She had been participating in the morning exercises, which included a five mile run. Midway through the familiar trek, a sudden stitch in her side caused her to pull up short, panting to ease the pain. What attracted her attention to a grass covered hill, she did not know. But there he was, standing there. It was undeniably her brother, standing amongst the knee-high grasses in an archery stance, one arm hanging behind his back, as if he had just released a shot. He had cast off the tan and brown uniform of a trainee, looking more like a real yu-yan, although his headband had still been fifth year red.

For a moment they just stared at each other, until the joy swelling in Shiori's heart made her want to call out to him. Unable to do that, she had channeled the impulse into the motion of a frantic wave, one that was cut short when the familiar form of Master Zorin appeared on the hill beside her brother. The elderly yu-yan had clapped a hand on Keisuke's shoulder and led him away. It was shortly after that when Shiori had found out that her brother had graduated from Simetra Island.

The memory of that day, the image of Keisuke's proud archery stance cast against the rich, summer sky, gave her the strength to tough it out through the worst of her times here. The fact that her beloved brother was out there somewhere, a full yu-yan archer now, motivated her even more than her love of archery. Keisuke had seen her. He _knew_ she was following after him. Failure now was inconceivable.

The sound of a bell being struck echoed through the silent room. "Lunch" announced one of the instructors.

Placing her thoughts of the past away as she straightened up her work area, Shiori dusted herself off and followed the rest of the students out of the room. A smile, perhaps the first genuine one of the day, graced her lips. Being sent to study with the first years meant no archery training for two weeks, a punishment beyond punishments for the talented girl. Lunchtime, however, was free time, and unlike the white headband wearing first years, Shiori possessed her own bow and supply of arrows. The smile widened. It was time to practice.

-------------------------------

The blaze of yellow stood out from the surrounding sea of white like a beam of sunlight breaking through an overcast sky. Not that Zorin needed such a blatant hint to locate his target; years of being an archer had trained his eyes to find and fixate on a subject almost instantly. Resting his thin body against the cool stone work of the open second story window frame, he was all but invisible to the gathering of first year students in the courtyard below.

Many were absorbed by consuming their lunches. Keeping to the rule of silence, only the echoes of chairs being moved back and forth, the clatter of utensils against plates and the soft clacking of shoes against cobblestones could be heard. His attention, however, was not upon the diners below, but on a large group of students that had moved beyond the courtyard.

The problematic forth year student had set up two straw targets about one hundred feet from where she was standing, the centers of which around six feet apart. Forbidden from using the tools of their future trade, it was no wonder many of the first years congregated to watch the spectacle. Zorin narrowed his eyes. Shiori was definitely bending the terms of her punishment. But he decided to allow it; the bow she was using was one she had made herself, and the lunchtime break only lasted an hour.

The master yu-yan felt a presence behind him, but did not acknowledge it, keeping his focus on the student below. Shiori had taken up two arrows, drawing both back simultaneously. He waited and watched along with his unseen companion as the girl struggled to aim two arrows at the same time. She released, and both arrows found their respective targets, although neither was close to the bull's-eyes. Undeterred, the fourteen year old reached into her quiver for two more arrows.

A low whistle sounded behind the headmaster. "Well, she has ambition and talent both, I'll give her that."

"Have you even begun teaching your students this skill, Shi-Yun?"

"No."

They fell silent as Shiori's second attempt went awry. One arrow hit a bull's-eye, but the second ended up clattering off of a high stone wall behind the targets. Even from this distance, the elder yu-yan's sharp eyes could see the girl's grimace. A smile tugged his lips as a mild breeze tickled through his wispy white hair and rustled the paper of a letter scroll resting in his hand.

As a master yu-yan, Zorin could shoot four arrows at once and hit dead center on four different targets, provided that they were reasonably close together. He could tell that Shiori's troubles weren't caused so much by a lack of skill, but in that her small hands lacked the size and strength properly aim two arrows at once without the knowledge of how to do so. Still, she was making a worthy effort.

"Talented and ambitious both," he echoed Shi-Yun's words as Shiori's third attempt produced results similar to her first try.

The fifth year instructor shifted his weight. "It doesn't change the face that she's not meant to be yu-yan."

As Zorin's red encircled midnight orbs focused on the younger master, Shi-Yun's hawk-like face hardened. "She has too much fire in her. She might have the talent; hell, she might even be stubborn enough to find a way to pass the final exam, but she'll only suffer in the long run."

The headmaster raised a white brow at the younger man's tone. The matter of fact statement carried with it a taint of bitterness and more than a little worry. The elder man knew Shi-Yun was not speaking out of spite, but out of experience.

Silence stretched for a moment, until Shi-Yun inclined his head as a slight apology for his outburst. The elder yu-yan gave his companion an accepting smile. Shi-Yun had a reputation of being a hard and unforgiving taskmaster; few of his students would guess that the man really had their best interests at heart. Being one of the few the elaborate system of tests had failed to catch made the fifth year teacher uniquely qualified for rooting out the last of the unworthy.

The sound of applause rippled through the courtyard, attracting both men's attention. The young teen had apparently almost hit a bull's-eye with both of her arrows. True to her desire to be the best of the best, though, Shiori wasted no time in reaching for more missiles. 'Almost' wasn't good enough.

"Whether or not she continues to pursue her quest to become yu-yan is her choice and no one else's, Shi-Yun. As long as the talent and desire are there, it is our duty to train it."

"Will you give her the final exam at the end of this year?"

Zorin sighed. That question had been troubling him ever since Shiori had begun training with the fifth years instead of her own year group. The final exam was meant to determine whether or not a student was worthy of personal attention from a full-fledged yu-yan. It tested not the skills of the archer, but their spirit; their ability to live the life of a yu-yan archer.

Privately, Zorin often found himself agreeing with the fifth year instructor. It had perhaps been a mistake to allow the girl to move up a year in her training. He had seen her potential as an archer and had wanted it to flourish. Allowing a talented student to skip a grade was rare, but not unheard of. Shiori's natural abilities were beyond those of most trainees. Coupled with her drive to catch up to her brother and it made the perfect combination for an exceptional student. At the time, he had given little thought for her spirit. After all, her brother had passed the final exam without hesitation.

"She does alright with survival training. No problems with hunting. It is possible that we are underestimating her."

A quiet snort was Shi-Yun's response to this.

The elder archer met his eyes. "We are teachers, Shi-Yun. Our job is not to solve the problems of our students. We give them the tools necessary and allow them to figure things out for themselves. I appreciate your concerns, but I can see no purpose in making Shiori repeat the fifth year. She has the skills required to move on… the matter is out of our hands."

Shi-Yun's face showed a moment of resignation before turning as impassive as the surrounding stone hallway. "It is as you say, Master Zorin." The younger man bowed and moved on, leaving the headmaster alone with his thoughts.

A sentiment akin to pity floated through Zorin's heart as his red-encircled eyes watched the younger man depart. Few would know as well as Shi-Yun the consequences of becoming yu-yan without having the spirit of one. And his fears in regards to young Shiori were well-founded. The very drive and determination that made her excel as a student might very well be enough to enable her to pass a test designed to stop those not meant to become yu-yan.

With a sigh, the white-haired man redirected his attention back down to the courtyard. The child in question was still practicing, ignoring the growing audience of first years around her. The arrows were hitting more reliably now, inching their way closer and closer to the red bull's-eye in the center of each target.

The wind picked up, rustling the long forgotten letter scroll still held loosely in one wrinkled hand. Zorin stared at it; the missive had been from an old friend, one who had a problem almost as vexing as his own. The headmaster's first impulse had been to refuse the politely and vaguely worded request, but now…

Now, as the lunch bell rang, signaling the end of the break, he considered it anew. Perhaps this was just the opportunity he needed to present Shiori with a valuable lesson, before it was too late.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

As the rail of the wooden trader ship dipped unexpectedly towards the choppy surface of the ocean, Shiori started to have second thoughts about the arrangement Master Zorin had set up. Well… it was probably third or fourth thoughts by now.

Her white-knuckled grip on the rail slacked only slightly as the boat straightened, only to tighten again as the opposite side of the ship dipped down. Headmaster Zorin, a more experienced traveler by far, had taken refuge from the choppy seas below deck. Shiori considered following him but decided that she'd rather see her fate coming rather than worry herself sick about it in the ship's bowels. Besides, retreating would mean releasing her grip on the rail, an unthinkable notion at the moment. A couple of sailors casually strode by, laughing outright at the child's death grip. With a flush as red as her new fifth year headband, Shiori loosened her grip on the rail. After all, if she was to be stuck on a ship for a month's duration, she was going to have to get her sea legs.

That's right, she had made up her mind days ago; there was no turning back now. If she wanted to be a yu-yan, this was what she was going to have to do. At least the ship she was expected to live on was a Fire Nation battle ship. Surely it would be far more stable than this wooden death trap.

As the ship gave another sudden lurch, Shiori's hand tightened again and she sent up a heartfelt prayer to those ancestors who might be inclined to watch over a pathetic non-bender like herself. _Please give me the strength to see this through, so I can become yu-yan. So I can finally _be_ somebody._

The ancestors did not reply, but the girl didn't have much faith in such things anyways. From the very beginning, she and her brother had been expected to take care of themselves. Not important enough for the people who had given them life to look after, not valuable enough to their town to garner protection from the element controlling bullies who had tormented them; they were children who had been seemingly destined for a life of drudgery in the Fire Lord's factories or as sacrifices on the frontlines. But Keisuke had changed that. He had seized a dream and followed it without question and she was determined to follow him. Even if that path was now leading her into completely unexpected territory.

"_Shiori, there have been some concerns raised over whether or not you will be able to dampen the fire in your spirit enough to faithfully serve your future commander as a yu-yan archer. As you know, we do not make a practice of training those who are not expected to move forward; therefore, I have arranged a little test for you…"_

A sudden spray of cool sea water shocked her out of her memories. A test to see if she could behave as a proper yu-yan, to see if she was worthy of further training. The girl's jaw tightened almost to the point of pain. This was all Shi-Yun's fault; she was sure. Although her knowledge of the history of Simetra Island was admittedly lax, she had never heard of a trainee leaving the facilities before the end of their training. This so-called test was completely unprecedented.

One hand went up to the new red headband that fit snugly across her brow. The stakes for her could not be higher. If she succeeded in pleasing this new master of hers, she would become an official fifth year student. Master Zorin himself would oversee her archery training and catch her up to the others. Most importantly, she would be given the final exam _this_ year, instead of having to wait a year for it. The wellspring of excitement that rose forth at the idea of being that much closer to her goal plastered a goofy grin on her face every time she thought about it. Not even the unpredictable rolling of the ship's deck was enough to completely smother her enthusiasm.

But, great rewards meant taking great risks. If she failed, if this new commander of hers was displeased with her, or found fault with her actions for whatever reason, she would be dismissed from the training program immediately.

Shiori looked down at her calloused right hand, flexing the fingers slightly. Master Zorin had left the choice of whether or not to accept this test up to her. If she had refused, she would have been sent back to the forth years, to resume her training there. The safest option had been the most unconscionable to her. Arrows do not move backwards.

Shiori straightened, her face hardening in resolve as she attempted to adjust her body to the ship's rocking movements. _One month. I can tolerate anyone for a month. All I have to do is be on my best behavior. I can do this! I will succeed and I will become yu-yan. _With a deep, steadying breath, she released her grip on the rail.

----------------------------------------

"Ah! I see our compatriots have already arrived. Come, Shiori."

Startled, the youth followed her master's gaze out to the far side of the harbor, where a few Fire nation battleships were anchored. One of them was almost humorously small in comparison to the others.

_What? But I haven't had a chance to clean up yet. _

The girl's hand began to brush wind-whipped, errant strands of her plain brown hair back away from her face, deft fingers tucking them up into her headband and back behind her ears. She shifted her quiver onto her back and adjusted her bow so that it was easily obtainable.

The port the ship had brought them to was bustling with activity. Ships were off-loading goods at the same time as others took chattels onboard, an endless flow of products that would have been mesmerizing, if Shiori had possessed the time to watch it. Dock workers moved with a drive and a single-minded purpose that would have made even Shi-Yun proud.

With feet now accustomed to a rolling deck, the stable dock seemed anything but as the trainee attempted to keep up with her sure-footed master. Stacks of boxes, coils of heavy rope and even some living goat-pigs had to be dodged as they wove their way down the long wooden dock. Shiori's eyes locked on to the warships, curious as to which would be her future home. Distracted, she tripped over a bundle of canvas, bringing a look from Master Zorin. Blushing scarlet, the young teen scrambled to her feet and devoted her full attention to following close behind the headmaster's lithe form. Traversing the dock, and later the bustling harbor town's streets was a lot easier when she focused solely on the white-haired yu-yan. The headmaster of Simetra Island wove his way down the busy street with an ease that flabbergasted the much shorter and younger girl camped on his heels.

The town lay tightly snuggled against the curvature of the harbor, docks of various sizes interlinking the two. Shiori's nose was assaulted by a multitude of new and conflicting scents. The salt of the ocean she was accustomed to, but layered on top of that were the smells of fish and baked goods, perfumes and unwashed bodies, leather and dirt and even the occasional hint of pine. Used to a nearly monochromatic society, the variety of colors astounded her as well. And then there was the cacophony of voices that drown out all but the loudest of the opportunistic sea crows.

Shiori was well and truly on the verge of being overwhelmed by the time they past the main business section of town and the street traffic thinned out. Freed from having to concentrate on shadowing her master, the young teen's mind began speculating for the umpteenth time about what her new commander would be like.

Master Zorin had been frustratingly sparse with details, saying only that an old friend of his had requested the use of a yu-yan trainee in order to aid his nephew with an important mission. The whole thing seemed rather odd to Shiori, but being unable to ask questions meant that she only received the information Zorin was inclined to impart.

Whatever this so-called 'important' mission was, her own assignment was perfectly clear. She was to obey her new commander as if he were Shi-Yun or Master Zorin himself. And she was to adhere strictly to the trainee rules while doing so. Her performance would be reported back to Simetra Island. After the end of the month, she would either be taking a giant step forward, or be sent home, an unpalatable prospect.

"Ah, here it is. Knowing Iroh, I trust this is the best restaurant on the island, even if it is an unpresumptuous looking affair," Zorin murmured, almost to himself.

Curious, his young ward peeked out from behind his back. The 'restaurant' in question hardly looked as such and was certainly pale in comparison to the grand buildings they had passed before. Wooden clapboard siding had been painted white at some point in time; now it was weather-beaten and dull, with flakes of paint decorating the ground like dandruff. An unreadable wooden sign creaked as it swung on rusty hinges. As they came closer to the entrance, a man came stumbling out, the reek of sake so strong that Shiori's nose crinkled up in disgust.

"Aw, your granddaughter shure ish cute," he slurred while attempting to plant a few pats on the top of the young teen's head. He failed miserably, in part because of his own inebriation, in part because Shiori's training had been rather thorough when it came to avoiding close quarters combat.

"Come, Shiori," Zorin called, rescuing the brown-haired girl from the uncomfortable situation.

Face still twisted in disgust, she quickly caught up with her master.

Despite its outwardly shabby appearance, the interior of the restaurant seemed well maintained. The white painted walls and open shutter windows gave the place an airy feel. The wooden floor was well worn, but swept spotlessly clean. Shiori shifted the quiver on her shoulder, making sure it wouldn't accidentally bump anyone's table as they weaved between them.

The restaurant was sparsely populated; it was past noon and before dinner. Still, with her concentration focused mainly on her master's back, the yu-yan in training didn't notice the familiar colors of her fellow countrymen until they stood before their table. A short, rotund, elder man rose in greeting, an amiable smile on his face as he and Zorin exchanged bows.

"General Iroh, it's been too long…"

"Zorin, my old friend, you are looking well…"

Shiori bowed when her master did; it wasn't until after she straightened that she noticed the surly looking teen still seated on the floor. Their eyes met for the briefest of instants, before Shiori's shifted away.

_That scar! How horrible!_ She wanted to stare at it. She never wanted to see it again. She watched the floorboards, composing herself. Her brain scarcely registering the conversation going on around her, it was so busy scolding her for averting her gaze.

_His eyes. His eyes are my targets. Nothing else matters. _She was going to be yu-yan. The yu-yan didn't flinch. Not even if the visage they faced seemed to lack an ear. _His eyes, _she reminded herself firmly._ They were gold, weren't they? Like the sun…_

She brought her gaze back up, determined to ignore the angry red skin that encompassed both the teen's left eye and stub of an ear. But it was too late. As if the burn and shaved head didn't make the teen's features severe enough, he was now sporting a full out scowl as he rose from the floor. He shot Shiori a death glare before commanding, "Uncle! We've wasted enough time here. I came for an archer, not a child. Let's go."

He brushed past her as he moved, but his eyes stared off beyond, as if she wasn't there at all. Shiori stood frozen. Somehow she had failed. Failed without firing a single arrow or serving a single day. Just like that, it was over for her. All of her training, her hopes, and her dreams, all of it…

"Prince Zuko. Show your respect to Master Zorin," the elder man spoke firmly, halting the teen in his tracks.

"Please, won't you join us for some tea? I ordered some oolong. As I recall, it is your favorite," the older man conversed naturally as the two friends sat down at the table, leaving their wards standing stupidly in the aisle.

Zuko clenched his fists in an attempt to rein in his anger. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that, yes indeed, the elders were actually going to sit there and drink tea. Why was he so surprised? Two years of traveling with his uncle and he still held out hope that 'drinking tea' would be a euphemism for 'let's make polite conversation for five minutes, then leave.' That's what it would mean if he were truly in charge, anyways. Instead, they were going to sit there and imbibe, which would take a minimal of half and hour, if not more.

His only options were to sit there and tolerate it or return to his ship and wait. Really, there was only one option.

With a scowl, he returned to his cushion at the table. His uncle wordlessly poured him a cup of tea, giving him a private smile as he did so. The yu-yan girl had already surrendered to the inevitable, kneeling on a cushion slightly behind and to the right of her master.

Zuko's frown deepened. What a disappointment. When his uncle had informed his that his old friend, the Headmaster of Simetra himself, would be willing to lend him a top-ranked trainee for a month, Zuko had felt hope for the first time since Zhao's promotion. His uncle had tried to caution him; that it was only one trainee and only for a month, but in Zuko's mind, it was all he needed.

Except now, looking at the slight, unimpressive girl Zorin had brought, the Prince realized that in his mind he had been picturing one of the deadly archers he had seen at General Shiloh's fortress_. Those_ yu-yan had exuded a lethal intensity that the teen before him distinctly lacked. And he sincerely doubted it was the absence of the face paint that made the difference. Even Zorin, who was white on top and spindly, had a gaze that reminded Zuko of a predator. The girl, well _she_ couldn't even look him in the eyes.

He felt a brief flash of self-consciousness. After two years, he'd thought he'd be used to it: the stares, the double-takes, the overly sympathetic looks, the averted eyes.

Anger, his familiar friend, shooed away the un-Princely feeling of insecurity. After he captured the Avatar and restored his honor, the Agni-kai scar he bore would mean nothing. And the sooner they stopped wasting time here and got on with it, the better.

"… is Shiori. She is a fourth year student on Simetra, but her archery skills are on par with our fifth years."

Zuko blinked as he realized the hawk-eyed yu-yan had been addressing him. He gave a non-committal grunt as a response. Who cared who the girl was; she was definitely _not_ what he had in mind.

The red and black eyes stared at him, _through _him, until Zuko felt a cold prick of discomfort between his shoulder blades.

"Perhaps a demonstration of her skills is in order..?" Zorin suggested tactfully.

The Prince shrugged. It wasn't going to make a difference anyways. He gazed out the open window, across the street and out into the harbor. "There," he said in a bored tone. "That fish boat out there, the one unloading its catch. Put an arrow into its mast."

Shiori followed the Prince's gaze to her proposed target. She frowned. What an insult. Didn't the Prince of the Fire Nation know the capabilities of its finest archers?

Of course, Shiori was still a bit overwhelmed to discover that her temporary commander was Prince Zuko himself. She partially suspected it all to be part of an elaborate ruse; he looked nothing like the handsome portrait of the Fire Lord that hung in the classrooms at Simetra Island. And who would dare burn the face of a Prince? Furthermore, his uncle's size and form appeared the exact _opposite_ of a great General to her. But she could see no reason for the Headmaster to go so far; it was her temperament that supposedly needed testing, not her skills of observation.

In the end, the identity of her new commander didn't matter a lick. She was a weapon, she reminded herself, and weapons didn't care who wielded them.

Still, the proposed target was an insult. At around a hundred yards, it was easily in range of her recurve bow. And the mast was a big target, not challenging at all. _Stupid boy, _she thought sulkily, envisioning a month of shooting inappropriately easy targets, all at the whim of a Royal brat who probably never had to work for anything in his whole life. _Jerk!_

"Ah, perhaps, Prince Zuko, you are not familiar with the skills of a yu-yan. Shiori may still be a trainee, but she is one of an elite few who have made it to the end of our program."

Zorin's words were polite and non-confrontational. The tone he directed at his student, however, rang with the power of authority.

"Through the eye of a fish, Shiori, as it falls."

The teenaged girl ducked her head in a short bow. She shifted her position on her cushion so that she knelt fully facing the open window. Reddish-brown eyes narrowed as a large net full of fish was slowly hoisted out of the vessel's hold. Several potential targets presented themselves; fish that were hanging precariously as the bulging net swayed back and forth. Her muscles involuntarily stiffened, but she refused to reach for her bow. She had been given a challenge; she was representing the skills of the yu-yan and this was her one and only opportunity to impress the Prince.

_It's just another shot, _she mentally chanted, trying not to think about how her entire future rode on its success. All eyes were on the net as it swung out over the rail.

_There!_

In a movement that she had practiced over a thousand times before, the young yu-yan had her bow up and loaded in less than a blink of an eye. The white-fletched arrows streaked across the water just as a fish fell free from the net…

Shiori turned back to the table as the other occupants stared at the results: not one, but two arrows pinned the fish to the hull of the ship. At this distance, no one but Zorin could tell that it was through the eye of the fish, although it was obvious to all that the fish was hanging right side up. However, everyone could see that the second arrow had split the first. As a few startled shouts arose from the harbor, Shiori gave the obviously surprised Prince a small, satisfied smirk.

_Ha! Who's a child now? _

But then she caught Headmaster Zorin giving her a disapproving look. She shriveled under his red-rimmed eyes, realizing that once again she had succeeded as an archer, but failed as a yu-yan.

Zuko cleared his throat. "So. I can have her for a month, then?"

"Yes, Prince Zuko. One month. Shiori will follow your orders _as _you give them," Zorin gave his student another hard glance, "and your uncle will report her progress back to me. I ask that you remember that she is committed to a strict training schedule and that you not interfere with that training unless you have need of her services."

He turned the full effect of his bull's-eye orbs onto his student. "Shiori, you understand what is expected of you. I want you to meditate on the true nature of a yu-yan archer during your journey with Prince Zuko."

Zorin's gaze softened as he looked at the earnest girl. Even now he could see the fire dancing in her eyes. How ironic that she had been born with the spirit of a fire bender, but not the abilities of one.

_May the sun spirit guide you the proper choice._


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_Nothing like being swallowed up into the belly of the beast, _Shiori thought ruefully as the stern of Zuko's ship clanked closed behind them with an ominous, echoing boom. With the final sliver of outside light sealed off, Shiori felt the weight, the _finality_ of her decision. A month had seemed like such a small sacrifice of time for the potential reward she stood to gain; now it stretched directly before her as an almost endless expanse, filled with unfamiliar people, situations and tasks.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" an impatient and already disembarked Prince Zuko queried.

Shiori hastily scrambled out of the small, coal powered landing vessel. A month never seemed so long.

"Leave it," the teen ordered as she made to reach for a wooden box of Simetra Island supplies. "One of my men will bring it to your quarters later."

Whirling around in an about-face that practically snapped his high-tied ponytail, Prince Zuko strode off in a swift march, his uncle following at a more casual pace in his wake. Casting her eyes about the hold to familiarize herself with her new surroundings, Shiori trailed after.

Zuko's ship had been the smallest of the Fire Nation warships anchored out in the harbor. The girl wasn't sure why that surprised her; it was just one of many unexpected twists of the day. She also wasn't sure why she had ever taken comfort in the idea of a metal ship. The wooden trader vessel that had brought her to meet her new master had seemed flimsy and unstable, but at least if it had sunk, the pieces would have floated. As Zuko and Iroh's armored boots tapped off the metal plating of the hallway, Shiori realized that would not be the case with this ship.

The hallways they traversed were the same dull grey shade as the outside of the ship. Lamps were evenly spaced, but too sparse, in Shiori's opinion. The result gave the ship's passages a tight, claustrophobic feel, completely opposite of the wide open spaces to which she was accustomed. Everything was constructed out of metal too, meaning her opportunities for spontaneous target practice would be close to nil. The air down here was stale, adding to the cramped feel, and carried the faint acrid odor of burnt coal. Shiori crinkled her nose in disgust. It reminded her of the factory town she had grown up in.

The girl frowned, feeling a sudden rush of homesickness for the familiar sights and sounds of Simetra Island. As she often did when troubled, she reached for her source of strength. Closing her eyes briefly, she thought of her brother as she had last seen him: standing in a picture-perfect archery pose in the garb of a true yu-yan. The image quickly faded. Far more familiar to her was the form of young Keisuke, her constant childhood companion.

Although that image too had grown hazy with time, some things were distinct. His hair was a rich mahogany color, his eyes a redder hue than her own. Her aunt had joked once that Keisuke had inherited the appearance of a fire bender, while Shiori's heritage had been the spirit of one. Of course, without the ability, neither the look nor the spirit amounted to much.

Shiori's frown deepened as they scaled a flight of steps, passing a stiff-backed soldier in full Fire-Navy attire, including the skull-like mask. The young archer thought it a sure bet that he was a fire bender, as no other weapons were evident. Of course, her royal guides would be highly gifted in that regard as well. General Iroh, at least, was renowned as a hero to her nation, one that had almost conquered the enemy capital of Ba Sing Se. She was positive that Keisuke would have let nothing stand in the way of his desire to become yu-yan, but the younger version of her brother would most definitely _not _have been happy to be surrounded by fire benders.

"_Look at them, Shiori! They think they're so special just because they were born with a skill… well, so what!" Keisuke's spiteful words were directed towards a group of their peers, practicing their bending in a stone paved courtyard. "They think that they're special, but they aren't! Life's just _easy _for them. They don't have to work for it; they don't have to prove themselves. The Sun Spirit just decided to bless them, that's all. So what! I'll show them. I'm special too. Mom and Dad will be sorry they ever left me behind…"_

The teen sighed as they passed through another nondescript hallway. She had no real memories of her parents to mourn, but she had to wonder: if she and Keisuke had been lucky enough to come into their birthright, if they'd still be together as a family instead of driven apart by the need to prove themselves to the world. She gave Zuko's back a dirty look. _Stupid fire benders…_

"Uncle, we need to get this ship underway."

"Prince Zuko…"

"I only have a month and we're already behind Zhao. We'll set a course for the Earth Kingdom, north of the Avatar's last known location. He won't escape me this time."

"Prince Zuko…"

"What?" the teen exploded, a small belch of flame exiting his mouth as he ceased his purposeful march to spin around and face his uncle.

Unperturbed, the elder man folded his hands up into his sleeves. "Where, exactly, do you intend to quarter Shiori?"

"Huh?" Golden eyes flickered in annoyance to the silent archer shadowing his uncle. "We've already discussed this: with the cook."

"Prince Zuko, you do not ask young ladies to share quarters with old men."

Anger faded from the youth's eyes as he blinked at his uncle. A slow flush softened his features. "Oh…" he said simply, apparently not having previously considered the possibility of his borrowed trainee being a girl. Then the moment was gone and he waved the matter away with an impatient gesture of his hands. "Just … clean out a storage room or something for her," he said while turning in place to continue down the hall. "I have to find Lieutenant Jee…"

The rotund former General gave Shiori a quick, apologetic smile. "He's … just under a lot of pressure. Let's find you a place to stay, hm?"

--------------------------------

Zuko was relieved when his uncle decided to stay with the girl. He knew Iroh meant well, but he didn't have time to deal with the details now. The sooner the ship got underway, the better the chance he'd have in putting his new archer to use.

The banished Prince frowned as he made his way to the bridge. Although he had been rightfully doubtful at first, it was clear that the girl was a superb archer. And at such a young age too… It meant that she was one of _those_ kinds of people. Born lucky, born talented, born without the need to work hard or struggle to achieve… like he had to do.

He resented the reminder. And what was with the silent treatment? She hadn't said a single word since bidding her master farewell. Heck, now that Zuko thought it over, she hadn't really said anything previous to that moment either.

Arriving at the bridge, he pushed his speculation aside. The girl was a tool to be used, and nothing more. And he _would _capture the Avatar before Zhao. That was all that mattered.

--------------------------

Shiori gazed about the small, grey room that had been dubbed 'hers'. General Iroh had swiftly delegated the responsibility for cleaning out the former storage area to a couple of Zuko's crew. The task had been accomplished in short order and they had thankfully left her alone.

The room was tiny in comparison to the shared girl's cabin on Simetra, but Shiori didn't mind. Several weeks of unassisted survival training made her grateful for the small comforts of life. For instance, the men had brought her a futon that fit in the corner and her box of supplies. Those two things plus her small bag of clothes were all she really needed to get by. The futon was an added bonus, actually.

Now, if only she knew what Zuko wanted her for… at the very least, she surmised it wasn't to perform tricks like a well-trained platypus-bear. That was good.

She cracked open her box of supplies; within lay enough materials to make one hundred arrows. Cedar shafts, already sanded and notched, awaited her choice of metal heads and white fletching. Their sweet and familiar smell tickled her nose. Several coils of thin rope, two replacement bowstrings and a bottle of glue were also stored in the box. She fingered the metal arrow heads, many in the traditional wedge form, but some were blunt weights and others were forged in a v-shape, like an open pair of scissors, to facilitate the severing of rope from a distance.

Shiori leaned against the grey wall of her room, feeling the vibration of the ship's engine through the metal. _It's only for a month. I can do this,_ she mentally reaffirmed. _A year from now, my arrows will be fletched in red, my headband will be black, and my face will sport the hawk's design. All of this will be an unpleasant memory. And Keisuke, my brother, we _will_ be together again. Nothing will stand in my way!_

------------------------

Admiral Zhao sat at his desk while around him the interior walls of the comet-class warship gave off a barely perceptible hum as the ship plowed northward. Before him lay a collection of scrolls, but his eyes were unfocused as he contemplated his destiny.

He was an Admiral now, a reward long in coming, and had the power to do everything from amassing a mighty fleet of ships to commandeering a Colonel's elite squad of archers. The memory of how his timely promotion had put the stubborn and short-sighted Shiloh in his place gave the man a brief smile of pleasure. But he quickly regained his focus. All of this would be meaningless, of course, if he failed to capture the Avatar.

He was destined for great things, he knew. He had known it since he had mastered fire bending at a young age, surpassing even the master who taught him, at least in his own mind. That had been the first in a long line of hints that he had been granted a spectacular fate. Power was only two-thirds of his formula for success; knowledge had a role too. Unsurprisingly to him, that had virtually fallen into his lap as well, with the discovery of an ancient library early on in his career.

His eyes focused on his scroll-laden desk. Capturing the Avatar would bring him much honor and glory; he would be a national hero, greater than the Dragon of the West, second only to Fire Lord Ozai himself. Zhao's face adopted slight smirk; and with the Fire Lord currently lacking a suitable heir…

Well, perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. The Avatar was headed north, that had been easy to discern. The problem was that his traveling pattern was completely erratic. Chasing after him was clearly a fool's errand, better left to Prince Zuko and his ilk. And while it was now within his power to place a blockade of ships between the boy's projected path and the North Pole, there were a few issues with that plan. It would take time and resources, for one, and the Fire Lord was not known to be a patient man. Then there was the possibility that some insignificant and undeserving peon would manage to capture the boy, siphoning some of Zhao's deserved glory away from him. Not a pleasant prospect at all.

Finally, there was the Avatar's mode of transportation. With a sky bison at his disposal, the so-called Master of all elements could easily fly over or around any such barrier, as he had witnessed when the boy invaded the Fire Nation to visit Avatar Roku's shrine. No… the newly christened Admiral wanted a better plan than that. As he had told Colonel Shiloh, sometimes situations required _precision. _

He picked up one of the information dockets that detailed the Avatar's previous stops, not really reading it, just holding it in his hand. He had already memorized the contents. What he needed was a way to get the boy to a location of his choice, on his terms. The Avatar was still a child; manipulating him would be easy. All he required was the right bait. The yu-yan had already proven themselves an effective weapon against the air bender, but they were a tool best put to use on land.

Frowning in concentration, the mutton-chopped Admiral scanned the scroll in his hand, and then re-read one of the scrolls he had purloined from the ancient library. Finally he consulted his map, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Yes. That could work.

Admiral Zhao laughed to himself as his fledgling plan began to take form. Finding that library had already assisted him in advancing his career; now it was going to permanently cement his name in the annals of Fire Nation history.

Of course, this came as no surprise to Admiral Zhao, who had always known that he had been fated for glory.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

Making his first appearance of the day on the bridge, Prince Zuko stared blearily out of the eastern facing window of his northward bound ship. His men were quiet; they had learned from experience not to disturb the teen before the sun had risen a minimum of two hands breadths from the horizon.

Like all fire benders, Zuko's powers rose with the sun; the Prince himself would have preferred to sleep in a little. But, with the importance of his quest and all that was riding on it, he had adopted an early morning wake-up regimen. It worked fine, so long as no one talked to him for the first hour or so.

Suddenly, his gaze jerked skyward as a rapid tapping sound echoed down from the ceiling of the bridge. Footsteps?

Oblivious to the lack of reaction on the part of his men, he lurched to the window just in time to see a brown and tan blur vaulting over the railing that surrounded the small upper deck. A rope tied to the rail wiggled and vibrated as the figure rapidly repelled down the control tower of his ship. Upon reaching the deck, his 'guest' sprinted full speed to the point of the bow, hurtling over a variety of storage boxes on her way. At the very tip of the ship she whirled and reversed direction at a sprint, disappearing down the mid-ship hatch into the hold, and leaving one very flabbergasted Prince to stare at the box-strewn shambles that had once been his pristine deck.

"What? What is she _doing_?" he sputtered, gesturing angrily towards the makeshift, unauthorized obstacle course.

Iroh, who was a true dawn riser, blew the steam off his second cup of morning tea. "Exercising, I believe," he stated calmly.

"At _this_ hour? And who told her she could do that to my ship?"

"Since the sky was light enough to see by, actually." Iroh's matter-of-fact tone couldn't hide a subtle trace of humor; his golden eyes sparkled as he spoke. "And you gave her permission, when you agreed to Headmaster Zorin's terms that Shiori's training not be interfered with."

As usual, Zuko's irritation was sparked to higher levels by his uncle's inexplicable ability to find humor in the oddest of situations. "She's an _archer_. I thought 'training' meant shooting arrows." His voice turned bitter. "Besides, isn't she a child prodigy or something? I'm surprised she even _has_ to practice."

"I believe the shooting of arrows comes later, Prince Zuko." Iroh's head canted slightly to the side. "And the yu-yan aren't merely 'archers'. They are the world's _best_ archers. Simetra Island's training program is one of the harshest a Fire Nation youth can endure. The few who graduate must prove themselves not only as archers, but as physically elite hunters that can track down any prey. Isn't that why you wanted one?"

The retired General gracefully gestured towards the stern of the ship with his cup of tea. Zuko glanced out of the small round porthole to find Shiori had emerged from the ship's bowels, and was now scaling the tower with the aid of another thin rope.

"I think her dedication is admirable," Iroh stated simply.

The Prince could feel his expression hardening and kept his back to his uncle. Shiori was just like _her_. It wasn't good enough for her to be _born_ talented; she had to show off by practicing harder than everyone else too. He felt the familiar sentiments of resentment and anger beginning to swell within him. Just what he needed in his life, another Azula.

"Make her stop," he ordered to no one in particular. "And have her clean up her mess before reporting to me."

"Prince Zuko," Iroh's voice had adopted the firm tone he used only when his nephew was unacceptably out of line. "A man of honor keeps his word. You should not interfere with Shiori's training."

"_Unless _I need her for my quest. Make her stop and have her report to me, Uncle. It's time she learns who she's up against."

------------------------------

_You've got to be kidding, right? _Shiori stared at the wanted poster Prince Zuko had handed her, as the older teen paced restlessly back and forth in his small chamber. The image on the scroll was that of a young boy. His head was clean shaven, his limbs decorated in twisted arrows and he was dressed in the garb of a monk. In other words, he looked completely innocuous. Belying his image, the words on the scroll proclaimed the boy to be none other than the Avatar, a master air bender whose very existence threatened everything three generations of Fire Lords had struggled to achieve.

Shiori couldn't believe it. The Avatar? But no one had seen him in a hundred years. In fact, she had been taught that the cycle had ended with Avatar Roku, back in Fire Lord Sozen's time. And why was he just a boy? Confused, she shifted her gaze to Zuko.

"Don't be fooled by his appearance," the Prince ordered. "And don't underestimate him. He really is a master air bender. That will make your job all the more difficult."

_Do you want me to…kill him? _Despite her best efforts to the contrary, Shiori felt her facial expression shifting to one of disapproval. Sure, she was an accomplished hunter; survival training was an integral part of learning to be a yu-yan. But she had never been asked to _kill_ a person before. And this… this was a child.

"I need to capture him alive. Only then can I return home…" the boy's voice trailed off as he stared at the Fire Nation insignia hanging from his wall.

With the Prince's back to her, Shiori allowed herself to feel a surprising amount of relief at his declaration. Then she frowned down at the floor. Thus far, her only consideration had been to graduate from the difficult Simetra Island training program. Afterwards, she would be reunited with Keisuke. She hadn't given a single thought on what her life as a yu-yan would actually be like.

"_We are weapons, Shiori… we don't care who we are pointed at or why…" _Master Zorin's voice rang through her memories.

_I suppose I'll be expected to kill… a lot._

_A flash of green and tan. Exhausted, tear-filled eyes pleading with her as shaking hands rose slowly over his head. The feeling of confusion as the pleasurable spike of triumph became polluted with pity._

Shiori shook her head slightly, shaking her memories away. _Well, it doesn't really matter. It's just another target. I can be a weapon. Besides, any old archer can kill. The yu-yan are special because they can deliberately _not _kill._

Slightly reassured, she looked up just in time to see Zuko recovering from his own reverie. She could look him in his eyes now without her gaze drifting, although his scar was still one of the most horrible things she had ever seen.

"The scroll mentions that he travels with two teenagers from the Southern Water Tribe, a boy and a girl. The boy is a fool…" Zuko's one good brow furrowed down as he chose his words with care. "But don't underestimate him. He can be an… unpredictable factor in a fight. The girl is a water bender. She isn't trained, but she can be troublesome. The Avatar has picked up some water bending too, although he still relies mainly on air."

Zuko clasped his hands behind his back and resumed pacing. He had come so close to capturing Aang so many times, only to be thwarted by the two peasants he traveled with. And the bison! Stupid flying hairball. He was the reason Zuko always had to play catch up with the Avatar. It was unbelievably frustrating. And now, thanks to his stint as the Blue Spirit, he knew Zhao was close too. Beyond close, as Zhao had actually accomplished his goal, until Zuko had, out of necessity, interfered.

He glanced down at the kneeling archer. Her brown eyes flickered between him and the wanted poster, so he knew she was paying attention, even if she had thus far remained silent on the subject. Would she really be enough to make a difference? One single trainee verses how ever many full-fledged yu-yan Zhao had under his command, not to mention his multitudes of ships and legions of men…

Zuko scowled, not liking the defeatist turn to his thoughts. Frustration welling up, he turned to fully face the kneeling girl. It wasn't as if it was the weather he was discussing; it was his entire future! Why was she so quiet? Couldn't the so-called 'elite' archer show a little interest?

"Well?" he demanded.

The girl mutely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Say something!"

Shiori blinked up at the Prince. _Say what?_ Her mouth opened, then snapped shot. Her entire expression turned hostile as she matched glares with the irritable heir. This was a trap if she had ever seen one. To remain silent was disobeying, a direct violation of her orders. However, speaking without being directly queried was dangerous as well. Shiori was well aware of the fact that her impulsive rebuttals were the very reason she was stuck serving Zuko.

_You're trying to trick me, to make me fail. Even Shi-Yun wouldn't sink this low. He may be strict, but he's never unfair._

Their glaring match was interrupted by a gentle call from the door. "Is everything all right in there? I heard yelling."

Not waiting for a response, the retired General's grey head poked into the room. His rotund body followed, arms laden with two trays containing a variety of steaming hot foods. "I brought breakfast. A man needs proper nourishment to start the day off right. Young ladies too." The elder man chuckled to himself, then fell silent as the thick tension in the room failed to dissipate.

"What seems to be the trouble, Prince Zuko?"

"She's _not _taking this seriously!" Zuko jabbed an accusatory finger at the kneeling girl, whose eyes first widened, then narrowed into slits at this unfair assessment. Her mouth fell open, an involuntary sound escaping before she managed to clamp it shut again. Lips thinned and turned white under the pressure.

_No. I won't fall for this trap. I won't, I won't, I won't!_

I _know_ you're not mute. Capturing the Avatar is my destiny. This mission will restore my rightful place on the throne. Why don't you have something to _say_?" The Prince emphasized his words with an abrupt sideways gesture. Fire trailed after his clenched fist and he noted with satisfaction that the high and mighty yu-yan want-to-be flinched away from it.

"Ah, Prince Zuko, I think I can explain." Iroh literally interjected himself between the teens, still balancing the trays of food. "Yu-yan trainees are forbidden to speak unless they are asked a specific question by their instructors. She isn't ignoring you so much as adhering to her role as an apprentice. Isn't that right, Shiori?"

"Yes," the soft, slightly raspy answer rose from the floor. Her eyes, however, were anything but soft as she stared at Zuko's hands. She was watching for more fire bending, he realized, her own hands clenched into tight fists on her knees. Suddenly he was grateful that the girl wasn't in possession of her weapon.

"There; you see? This is just a misunderstanding." Iroh spoke in a soothing tone. "Why don't we sit down and enjoy our food, Prince Zuko."

Not waiting for a response, the older man began setting down his trays on Zuko's sole table. Zuko sighed, his irrational anger dissipating. There were times he believed that his uncle, left to his own devices, would solve all of the world's problems with food and tea. His mentor's golden eyes gave him a pointed look, and then glanced deliberately between the food and the still kneeling archer. What he wanted was obvious and it was a good solution. Princes did not apologize to peasants.

"Join us for breakfast," he said, the words coming out a lot harsher than he intended. "Please," he added, earning a look of approval from his uncle.

The brown-haired girl silently rose to her feet. Giving Zuko a wide berth, she settled back down at the table. Zuko followed suit, feeling an un-princely amount of embarrassment over his demonstrative behavior. It had given him pleasure, when she had flinched away from his fire bending; now that emotion turned quickly into a dissatisfying feeling of shame.

_Uncle should have told me sooner, _he thought crossly as he joined the other two at the table. Oddly enough, now that he knew how to illicit a response from the girl, he found that he wanted to do nothing of the sort. Instead, he discussed potential destinations with his uncle, and fell into the comfortable routine of bickering about portion sizes and the appropriate divvying up of food between them. The girl, he ignored, although he made sure she received her fair share of the food.

For her part, the yu-yan trainee remained silent and kept her eyes cast downward, a picture-perfect subordinate. A few times, however, he caught a glimpse of them raised, and he imagined that he saw something dancing behind the red-brown orbs. Something that made him glad that she was unable to speak without his permission.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** To clear up a potentially confusing point, all of Shiori's thoughts and memories are in straight italics, sans quotation marks_, like so, only in sentence form_. Many times she'll be thinking something in direct response to something Zuko says, but it is all in her head and most certainly not heard by him. If she does respond directly, the words will appear in the normal fashion and be surrounded by quotations "thusly". I apologize for not making that clear before.

Also, thanks for putting up for these short and somewhat dull "getting to know you" chapters. I promise to pick up the action a bit following this one. I have no intention of dragging this story out _ad nauseam_. I appreciate your patience and your attention. In other words, Thanks for reading!

**Chapter Seven**

_A Fire Nation ship is definitely no place for an archer, _Shiori thought ruefully as she watched the spectacle on deck from what she considered a safe distance away: the small observation deck outside the control tower. Below her, on the forward deck where she had _hoped_ to practice her archery, Prince Zuko and a few of his crew were working through a fire bending drill, under the casual scrutiny of General Iroh himself.

_He's as exacting as a yu-yan instructor, though he certainly doesn't look the part, _the girl mused with a small smile. It all seemed good to her; the men were moving their arms and legs and fire was shooting out… what more could there be to fire bending?

Apparently there was a lot more to it, as the elderly General put down his omnipresent tea cup to give his nephew instructions on balance and breathing, before they started the whole routine again. With a disheartened sigh as her dreams of being able to commandeer the deck faded, Shiori pulled an arrow from her quiver. She examined it carefully, first making sure the shaft was undamaged and the fletching secure, then sighting along it to check for any signs of warping.

_I miss Simetra Island. _It was an odd sensation. At home she had often rankled under the firm reins the instructors kept on her; now she felt lost without the regimental structure controlling her day. Zuko's ship was too small for proper training. Oh, she had managed to adapt several of her scheduled exercises, but she missed the open freedom that dry land provided. Well aware that her activities were going to be reported to Master Zorin when the trip was over, she tried hard to approximate what she would have been doing at home. She ran laps around the ship until she was tired, did calisthenics until her muscles complained, and practiced scaling the control spire with the use of only a rope.

Archery was the hardest thing to practice; the metal ship offered a limited number of targets. Zuko always seemed to interrupt her during archery training too, dragging her away to tell her some trifling fact about his precious Avatar or outright questioning the extent of her abilities. Frustrating, that's what this was. And she wasn't sure how she was supposed to learn the proper attitude of a yu-yan when her surroundings practically prevented her from performing as an archer.

Snorting softly to herself, she tucked her arrow under one leg, and then pulled out the next for inspection. The wind gusted, then stilled as down below a one-sided argument arose.

"Uncle! This basic stuff isn't going to help me best the Avatar. Teach me the next set!"

The General's soft-spoken reply didn't reach Shiori's ears, but she could tell by Zuko's body language that he didn't like the response.

_He'd never make it past the first year of yu-yan training. _

The thought gave her a smile, but it quickly faded into a contemplative frown. She just didn't 'get' Zuko. He had been born with all the attributes her brother had envied. He was a person of importance, a Prince in the most powerful nation in the world. From the way his uncle doted on him, he obviously had the comfort familial bonds supposedly brought. And he was a fire bender. He had been born with every single possible advantage one might enjoy, and yet he still seemed unsatisfied with his lot in life. While Shiori could respect the fact that he wanted to improve his skills as a bender, his obsession about capturing the Avatar befuddled her.

_I guess some people are never happy._

She tucked a few more inspected arrows under her thigh, lest the rolling of the ship caused them to escape her. She had already suffered enough questions regarding her competence without adding fuel to the fire.

_I suppose it doesn't matter. I will become yu-yan, no matter what. If I don't die of boredom, this so-called challenge will be easy. All I have to do is work at keeping my mouth shut and obeying orders. Shouldn't be too hard… _

Although she reassured herself with that thought multiple times a day, part of her worried that it wouldn't be enough. Prince Zuko had requested a yu-yan for a specific reason. If she never got a chance to fulfill that purpose, there was a distinct possibility that Master Zorin would declare her test a failure.

_Be calm. Be calm. It's only been five days…_

On deck, flashes of exchanged fire blasts once again filled the air; the Prince and his uncle apparently having come to a compromise. Suddenly Iroh jumped up from his seated position on deck. He rushed between the combatants, skillfully fending off a fireball from one while blocking a roundhouse kick from his own nephew. In a move that Shiori wouldn't have expected from a man his age (or girth), he dodged a near blow from the third participant in the training exercises. The armored man, attempting at the last moment to pull his strike, went down in an ungraceful heap.

Ignoring the chaos he had caused, the Dragon stood at attention at the rail, shading his eyes with a hand. "Oh, look, Prince Zuko! It's a flock of pelican-geese! I haven't seen one in ages."

"You interrupted our training for a group of stupid birds?"

Undeterred, Iroh continued on as if his nephew had joined him in his enthusiasm. "Shiori! Can you hit one of those delicious pelican-geese?"

The girl blinked in surprise upon hearing her name called; from her current position she should have been invisible to Iroh, who, like her, had been facing the bow. Shrugging off her astonishment, she rose fluidly to her feet, bringing her arrows with her. She looked in the direction Iroh had pointed to. There, in the distance, she could make out the v-shaped formation of ten large white-feathered birds, their wings beating against the sky in graceful, energy efficient strokes. Brilliant red pouches dangled from their elongated beaks, making them easy targets to keep track of against the muted sky. The flying meals in question were off the starboard bow at a distance that was _just _out of her range, but closing.

_Is this a test? It must be. There's no way the infamous 'Dragon of the West' would get that excited over simple birds. Maybe I should tell him they're out of range. That'll show good judgment._

But she could feel a certain stubbornness arising. Zuko was watching, her 'official' commander, and she very much doubted he'd be impressed by a refusal, even one based on sound physics. Besides, this was the first challenging archery target she had been given since the falling fish.

Depositing all but one of her inspected arrows back into her quiver, she deftly tied one end of a coil of rope to the front of her chosen shaft. Made of rare spider-monkey silk, the durable rope used by the yu-yan had the benefit of possessing both high tensile strength and light weight. Still, it was going to further shorten her range on a target that was already pushing her limits.

She took the time to make sure the thin rope was secure to both her arrow and the rail surrounding the upper deck. Really, though her movements were smooth and quick, she was buying time for the coal-powered ship to move closer to the targets and for the targets to fly closer to the ship. She kept an eye on the trailing bird, feeling it unfair to take out the leader.

_There. That ought to be about right. _

Double checking to ensure her rope would uncoil unhindered, she nocked her arrow and sighted along its length. Then she angled her missile upwards. The release was clean; her arm fell back smoothly as the tension stored in her back muscles was relieved. She stood and watched with the rest of them as the arrow arced out and over the long expanse of blue water between the ship and the flock. She watched, because for once, she wasn't sure that the arrow would make it to its intended destination. There were a lot of variables involved and even the yu-yan recurve bow had its limits.

_Damn! _

Her right hand reached for a second arrow even before the first struck. The pelican-goose jerked and tumbled before struggling at the end of its tether, its flock-mates honking loudly and scattering in confusion. The second arrow, unencumbered by rope, ended its fight. The large seafaring bird plummeted; the splash visible to all on deck. The helmsman, who had emerged from the interior of the ship to investigate Iroh's excited calls, grinned and congratulated her on the 'nice shot' prior to returning to his station to alter course towards the target.

Shiori grimaced at his words. A true yu-yan would have accomplished the task with a singular arrow. She had required two. Shaking her head, she untied her rope as soon as there was enough slack on it. Placing her feet on the outside of the ladder's rails enabled her to slide down to the deck in short order. The mood amongst the observers was jovial, none so elated as General Iroh to be relieved of their monotonous diet of fish for the day.

The exception, of course, was Prince Zuko. He stood beside her as she slowly coiled up her rope. "You know, you won't get a second shot against the Avatar." His tone contained a hint of superior smugness that caused a reciprocal flash of anger in her heart. It died down almost instantly as her brain recalled how the pelican-goose had struggled so desperately at the end of her first arrow.

_I'm still just a trainee, you know._

She kept her eyes on her work and away from the Prince. Second shots and lame excuses, both were unworthy of a prospective yu-yan. She could only imagine what Shi-Yun would say. Mentally, she assigned herself an extra hour of archery practice and an extra hour of evening calisthenics as punishment.

"Oh! It's a big one! I can almost taste it now."

Zuko, his arms crossed in front of his chest, gave his grinning uncle a pointed look, then heaved a resigned sigh. "Just hurry up and get it on board so we can get back to training."

"No. No more training today, Prince Zuko."

"What? Why?"

"Pelican-geese do not stray that far from shore. We are nearing our destination."

"Finally." Zuko's posture eased. "I hope you're right about this place, Uncle."

Iroh spared his nephew a glance and a grin. "You worry too much, Nephew. These traders work the entire northwest shoreline of the Earth Kingdom. If there are any rumors of the Avatar, we will hear them in this town."

The Prince gave a non-committal grunt as a response. He abandoned his position at the rail to stand to one side as his uncle, perhaps recalling his General days, began giving the men detailed instructions on how to retrieve his meal. Shiori also quickly retreated as the men snapped to, although she still held on to her rope.

Zuko glanced at the red headband wearing girl, then away. He wasn't going to admit it to Miss. Naturally Gifted, but the shot she had made was impressive. She had at least as much range as the yu-yan who had nailed him outside Colonel Shiloh's fortress. He unconsciously rubbed his head at the memory. Having been on the receiving end of a blunted yu-yan arrow once, it was not a fate he'd wish on many people. The Avatar and his interfering friends were notable exceptions. And while he was thinking about range, wasn't the entire northwest coastline of the Earth Kingdom a bit much for normal traders?

"Uncle, what kind of traders did you say these were?"

Even when distracted by the prospect of a delectable meal, the old man didn't miss a beat. "I didn't, Prince Zuko," he answered with a half smile. "But, I guess you could call them free-lance traders."

"Huh." Zuko watched as the large white bird was hauled onto the deck by way of a cargo net. The cook had been summoned forth; he and Iroh were having a spirited discussion about which sauce would best accentuate the subtle flavors of the bird's meat. The young archer slipped in to retrieve her arrows, only two inches apart, from the limp body.

Most of the small crew had made a quick appearance on deck by now. They were disciplined enough to take a only a brief peek before swiftly returning to their duties. All eyes turned to Zuko, though, when he suddenly put two and two together.

"Wait a minute. Freelance seafaring traders with an unusually large range? Uncle, you're taking us to an island of pirates?"

_**T.B.C.**_

**A/N: **Just a quick archery fact for those interested: the ancient Turkish recurve bow was capable of shooting light weight arrows seven hundred yards. No word on accuracy, but I bet such a weapon would only be effective if fired _en mass_ at a large group of approaching enemies. It surprised me to see that the yu-yan do indeed use a recurve bow, rather than the better known longbow. More proof that the creators did their research!


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Shiori eyed their destination speculatively as the coal-powered mini-ship steamed towards shore. The island was a tall, craggy affair; wind and wave battered rocks rose sharply from the ocean, offering little purchase for either plant life or potential invaders. Desolate and bleak looking from a distance, the island's appearance did not improve upon closer inspection.

The battleship had been anchored a fair distance away from the harbor on General Iroh's advice. _"We don't want to seem like aggressors,"_ he had said, _"or else this visit will be in vain."_ That was also the reasoning behind the fact that only he, Prince Zuko and Shiori occupied the small craft. _"Too_ _many Fire Nation uniforms will make them wary, Prince Zuko. It will be best to keep the landing party small."_

Zuko had fussed a bit; he didn't _like _pirates and didn't see the need to kowtow to them, but had eventually acquiesced to his uncle's wisdom. Shiori had been chosen to accompany them because she was small and, despite having her bow at hand, looked non-threatening. Plus, Zuko had caught a glimpse of the size of the purse his uncle was taking and had declared that _he_ most certainly was _not_ going to be carrying any souvenirs. Shiori didn't really care about the reasons why; she would have begged to come along if she had been capable of it. Anything to get off that blasted ship.

Their landing vessel powered smoothly through the choppy harbor waters, weaving through wooden sloops and frigates, many sporting signs of battle damage. Eventually they tied up at a dock, one close to shore, but towards the outskirts of town, as per General Iroh's advice.

"All right. Remember our mission. We're here to pick up any information regarding the Avatar. _Not_ to shop around for things we don't need." Zuko gave his uncle a stern look. The man returned it with an innocent smile. Folding his arms across his chest, the teen looked unconvinced. Still, with General Iroh leading the way and Shiori bringing up the rear, they entered the town.

Town was a bit of a generous overstatement, the yu-yan trainee decided with a slight crinkle of her nose. The buildings, in various states of disrepair, were built haphazardly, sort of clumped here and there without any noticeable rhyme or reason behind their layout. The streets were narrow and winding, many ending in pointless dead ends. And, as Shiori accidentally discovered when her foot came down in a suspicious looking substance, they were not well tended.

The citizenry of this place didn't favor one color over the other when it came to their clothes. The only thing they seemed to have in common was that each bristled with weapons and attitude. Several curled their lips in sneers as Iroh and Zuko, in their prominent Fire Nation uniforms, passed. Shiori, who wore the trainee colors of brown and tan and who sported a weapon of her own, was spared the outright hostility.

"Where do we even start?" Zuko leaned in to ask his uncle.

Before Iroh could answer, a muffled roar came from the building to their left, followed by several dull thuds. A pair of fighters came tumbling out of the open doorway, falling over themselves as they flailed about with their fists, several onlookers spilling out of the establishment to egg them on. The combatants, clearly drunk, exchanged a few more ineffective punches until one got in a lucky blow that sent his opponent crashing to the dirt. Cheers and groans echoed down the narrow street as the victor made his uneven way back into the bar.

"How about here?" Iroh suggested. Zuko raised his good brow, but he followed when his uncle led and Shiori, having no voice in the matter, did the same.

The stench was the first thing that assailed her senses, even before they had fully crossed the threshold. Strong liquor, unwashed bodies, the smoke from tallow candles; it was pretty overwhelming. Tightening her grip on her bow, she stayed close to the Prince as they entered.

The raucous atmosphere of the place did nothing to ease her nerves. The men were stumbling about, spilling tumblers of smelly, dark fluid; the few women were scantily clad and everyone seemed to be speaking in their loudest, most obnoxious voices. Even Prince Zuko, a more seasoned traveler by far, appeared to be taken aback.

"Uncle," he practically yelled to be heard, "we're not going to find out anything here. Let's go."

"A moment, Prince Zuko."

"Hey you! No kids allowed!" A large woman with rat's nest hair and clothes that clung to her ample curves strode towards their little group, parting the crowd as effectively as Zuko's ship parted water. She forcibly pushed an addle-minded customer out of her way as she approached, her face grim. She towered over all three of them, placing her hands on her hips as she sized them up.

"No kids," she reiterated, displaying a mouth of uneven, tea-colored teeth.

"Of course," Iroh beamed up at her. "But may I just say that your beauty is comparable to that of the rare Panda Lily, a flower that thrives only in the most adverse of conditions."

Shock caused Shiori's mouth and eyebrows to go in completely opposite directions. What was Iroh thinking? She took a quick sideways glance at Zuko. His patch of scar tissue hindered facial mobility, but his lips formed a thin line and his cheeks were sucked in, as if he had accidentally swallowed something sour.

The 'beauty' blinked down at the still smiling General. Then she guffawed and slapped a meaty hand down on Iroh's back. "Ha, ha, you've got balls, Fire Nation, I'll give you that. Welcome to the Talon. The kids still have to leave though. Corrupting minors and skipping out on your bill are about the only things we don't tolerate here."

Iroh gave the matron a slight bow. "Of course. They were just leaving."

He turned to Zuko before the teen could utter a protest. "Why don't you explore the rest of the town? We'll meet back at the ship in a couple of hours, okay?"

"Uncle!"

"Remember, my nephew, many hands make light work."

"What?"

But the Dragon had already turned his charms back to the woman. "Tell me, my flower; is there a chance of a man enjoying a sporting game of pai-sho?"

The two began weaving their way through the crowd of miscreants, abandoning the seething Prince and nonplussed archer. Zuko growled; tiny bits of flame danced between the fingers of his clenched fists.

"Hey, you want to burn the whole place down? No fire bending," a squat, but muscular man dressed in black approached them.

"You heard the Mistress: no kids. Get out." Another fellow, this one cutting a slimmer profile, but deliberately palming the hilt of a rather nasty looking curved sword also materialized out of the crowd.

Short and Beefy clamped a hand on Zuko's arm; a prelude to physically escorting the teen out.

"Let go of me, you filthy peasent!"

The Fire Nation Prince jerked his arm away from the offending bouncer. For a second it appeared as if he were going to put up a fight. But then he turned and snapped, "Shiori, let's go."

They made their way to the door, the black-clad men shadowing them until they exited. Freed from the senses-crushing atmosphere of the bar, the two teens stood motionless in the middle of the dirt street for a moment or two, regaining their bearings. That is, until Zuko noticed his borrowed archer was sporting an ear to ear grin.

"What? What's so blasted funny?"

Shiori shook her head mutely, trying without success to school her face into a more neutral expression. The trouble was, the more she tried, the harder it became.

Zuko's ire rose. How typical of a 'natural genius' to find humor in his setbacks. "I order you to tell me this instant what you find so amusing about this situation!"

The flame was back, this time emerging in a shallow arc that followed the emphatic gesture he made towards the bar, before flickering out mid-air. The archer sobered immediately, once again watching his hands warily for any more displays of power. Satisfied with the result, but not with the on-going silence, Zuko crossed his arms in front of his chest, drawing the girl's attention back to where it belonged.

"Well?" he demanded.

Shiori pursed her lips, unsure of how much to tell Zuko. The training program on Simetra Island wasn't secret per se, but it was run by yu-yan, for yu-yan, without military oversight. Oh, a Fire Sage stopped by every now and then, but they reported directly to the Fire Lord and to no one else. Shiori decided the simplest answer was the best answer.

"Your uncle… that_ line_."

"Oh." Zuko grimaced, his anger visibly diminishing. The teen shook his head. "Yeah… he does that… from time to time."

Zuko brought his hand up to his chin in a thinking pose, a position that mimicked one that Iroh occasionally adopted. "When he said many hands make light work, I suppose he meant we should split up to make this easier…" His voice trailed off as he gauged his younger companion. She possessed superb archery skills, to be sure, but this place was a little too rough and tumble for even Zuko's comfort level, let alone for a girl who had been isolated on an island for the past four years. Not that he cared, really. The search for the Avatar took precedence over any one person's safety; didn't it?

He sighed, realizing that he couldn't in good conscience just toss the young archer to the wolves. His hand dropped down. "You'd better stay with me. If you hear anything about the Avatar, alert me right away. Don't make me ask you later." The girl gave him a curt nod and fell in step behind him as he led the way back towards the harbor. A market place would be a good source of information, if they could find one.

Shiori waited until Zuko, a few steps ahead of her, appeared engrossed with thought before she stuck out her tongue at his back. She hadn't missed the appraising look he had given her before his decree that she should stay with him. _Tch. What a typical bender attitude of superiority: if you're not born with power, no matter how much training you do, you are still inferior. Jerk!_

Zuko's unwelcome misjudgment of her capabilities made Shiori glad that she hasn't told him the whole story behind her grin. Her second year on Simetra Island had put her under the supervision of two yu-yan instructors: Master Sen, a twenty-something archer blinded in one eye due to an earth bender attack, and Master Yukinon, a no-nonsense, middle-aged woman.

Early on in the year they had split the boys from the girls for lessons in the facts of life. Shiori had no idea what transpired in the boys' lessons; hers had been an eye-opening, blush inducing, straight forward introduction to human reproduction. And why, as trainees, they were strictly forbidden from engaging from any activity of the sort. Even as graduated yu-yan, they would be expected to take the measures necessary to prevent pregnancy, a condition that would lead to their immediate dismissal from the organization.

Active duty yu-yan, as a whole, had relatively short careers due to the physical requirements of the job. Shooting arrows wasn't enough; they had to be able to run miles on end, scale walls and trees with ease and survive outdoors without any comforts of home, a prospect that became harder and harder with age. Therefore, Yukinon had informed them, they would have plenty of time to make babies _after _their service to the Fire Lord was done.

Thinking of 'the talk', even now, brought a flush of embarrassment to Shiori's cheeks. Back then, boys had just started to lose their ick factor and become interesting. _"Distractions", _Yukinon had declared them. And since yu-yan trainees couldn't afford to let their focus wander, any girl suspected of pondering non-archery related subjects would be assigned a punishment. Push-ups or pull-ups, to be exact, as they would always have to work harder than the boys to maintain their upper body strength. So said Yukinon.

It quickly became obvious that Master Sen had given the boys a similar rule, except their punishments involved doing sit-ups or running laps. The second year instructors were so quick to pounce on any signs of distraction, opposite sex related or not, that it wasn't uncommon at any given time for over half a dozen trainees to be engaged in some sort of punitive activity. By the end of the second year, the surviving candidates had no use for each other at all.

Yukinon had been very strict, but Shiori couldn't help but remember the graying woman with a certain sort of fondness. The unflappable teacher would have had no problem instructing Iroh to 'drop and give me fifty', hero of the Fire Nation or not.

Shiori felt her impertinent grin returning. This time, without Zuko's scrutiny to make things worse, it was quickly banished. Besides, she found herself liking Iroh. He reminded her of Headmaster Zorin, in a way. Zuko was the one she'd really like to see run laps. Throwing his fire about the way he did reminded her all too vividly of the bullies back home.

_Ooh, look at me! I can make fire out of thin air, _Shiori mocked. Unfortunately, it was obvious that the Prince was unimpressed with her so far, a situation that required rectifying if she wanted to move on.

_Unnecessary distractions, _Shiori thought with a wry smile. She cleared her head and focused on the task at hand as they rounded a blind corner and continued their search for the market place.

_**TBC...**_


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Shiori decided that this pirate town had been constructed in a deliberately confusing way. Tall wooden buildings overshadowed the narrow alleyways they traversed, blocking all but the most indirect rays of the sun. None of the streets ran in straight lines; they all curved or turned tight, blind corners. In short order Shiori, who navigated her way through forests with ease, found herself completely turned around and lost.

Zuko's confident stride never faltered, even though his frustration at their aimless wandering became more obvious. He rapped on one of the unpainted, shabby structures with a knuckle as they passed. "This whole place is a fire trap," he muttered. "Stupid pirates. I knew we should have done this my way."

The words not addressed directly to her, Shiori let the comment go unanswered. Zuko's original plan, altered into this more passive mission by General Iroh, had involved threatening the inhabitants into relinquishing any and all information regarding the Avatar, using force if necessary to persuade cooperation.

The yu-yan trainee eyed the buildings. They were wood, to be sure, an apparent open invitation for burning, which seemed odd given the cautious, invasion thwarting nature of the place. Then she shrugged her shoulders and dismissed her casual speculation. They walked past yet another bar; evidently pirates had few constructive hobbies. Zuko's feet slowed, but to Shiori's relief did not stop. A few drunkards lied like discarded trash in the mud of the street. They stepped over one prone body and moved on.

Shiori tried fruitlessly to orient herself, then shook her head. _Boy, am I lost. This seems horribly pointless. _She stared hard at the point between Zuko's shoulder blades. _I thought we were going back to the harbor. Please don't tell me you're lost too._ No response, of course, although Zuko's shoulders shifted, as if he could feel the intensity of her gaze.

------------------------------------

Zuko's eyes scanned the surrounding buildings for some indication of their location. Palace born and raised, he found the convoluted nature of this place to be confounding his sense of direction. _Wait. Have we been down this way before?_

Pausing at a four way intersection, Zuko risked a glance back at his companion. Alertly scanning their surroundings, her brown eyes met his for the briefest of moments before he redirected his gaze. He was a Prince and her temporary commander. He was _so_ not going to ask her if she knew where they were. Grateful that she couldn't question him without his permission, Zuko's ears perked up at the sound of a door creaking open down the street to his right.

Without warning he dashed down the street, closing ranks quickly with the man who had emerged. Taking the pirate unawares, Zuko shoved him hard up against the wall of a building, allowing him only enough movement to turn to face him. The stink of alcohol oozed out of the man's pores and lay heavily on his breath as he regarded his teenaged assailant. A couple of day's worth of stubble decorated the man's angular face. His green breeches sported patches on the knees and the billowy tan shirt hung in loose folds, hiding the true size of the pirate's body. Still, there was a cognizance about the man that the other drunken sots they had passed lacked.

Zuko tightened his grip on the pirate's clothes. "I'm looking for the Avatar," he snarled. "Where is he?"

To his amazement, the pirate simply laughed, brushing the teen's hands off of his clothes with a surprising amount of strength. "Avatar? Bleeding hog-monkeys, boy, he sure as heck isn't here."

Apparently done with the conversation, he pushed away from Zuko and resumed his walk down the street. A fire blast directed in front of his feet brought the man up short. He turned his head, eyeing the Fire Nation teen the way a parent will eye a child throwing a tantrum, as if judging how much punishment Zuko's behavior warranted.

Zuko's chin tilted up in defiance. "I'm not done with you! Tell me where the marketplace in this infernal town is."

Offering a narrow profile to the teen, the pirate's large hand settled on the hilt of an oversized dagger tucked into the top of the dark sash that wrapped around his waist. He sneered. "Say 'please'."

"Please."

The softly uttered, deadpan word startled the Prince. He cautiously allowed his eyes to shift to his side. Standing there as calm as could be, Shiori had an arrow drawn back to her cheek, the sharp metal point unwavering as she unblinkingly aimed down its shaft. Had she actually spoken, or was it the sound of her bowstring being drawn taut that had attracted both men's attention? Zuko couldn't be sure. But whatever it was, it did the trick.

The pirate froze in place for the briefest of moments before breaking out in a huge grin. His stiff body posture relaxed and his hand dropped down to his side. "Go back to that intersection, turn right; go down three streets and turn right. That'll take you back to the harbor. What passes for a market around here is two streets up from the center of the docks." The man turned and sauntered off, whistling as he went.

Zuko eased out of his bending stance, waiting until the pirate had turned a corner. Then he faced his borrowed archer, who had already returned her arrow to its home and was eagerly facing the indicated intersection. "Why did you do that? I didn't need your help."

Brown eyes cast downward; the girl ducked her head in what Zuko interpreted as an apology. The Prince stared at her a moment, then snorted. "Whatever. Let's go."

"I think he was a bender."

The feminine, yet slightly raspy voice brought the older teen up short. He hadn't truly expected a response. "What?"

"You were watching his hands; his feet moved funny." Shiori slid her own foot sideways in imitation. "Earth bender, probably."

"Right…" Zuko let a good dose of sarcasm color his words. "And what do you know about earth benders?"

A shoulder slid up and down in response and the ruddy eyes grew distant. Apparently that was all the answer he was going to receive. Shaking his head, the banished heir decided to let the matter drop. The important thing was that they finally knew where to go. He could only hope that the marketplace would redeem this thus far useless stop.

-----------------------------------

Shiori walked on eggshells all the way back to the harbor. She had spoken without permission and had acted without orders. All on a mission where she was supposed to be learning the true meaning of being yu-yan.

Shame colored her cheeks; why was Prince Zuko allowing this to slide? She decided that he either did not understand the magnitude of her violations, a distinct possibility given his general ignorance regarding the yu-yan, or that he was simply waiting to report her abysmal behavior to General Iroh. The idea that he was being magnanimous in light of their progress crossed her mind, but she counted that as a slim possibility. Shiori bit her lower lip in frustration. On Simetra Island, one knew instantly when one was in trouble, no guess work required. Waiting to find out seemed a cruel fate.

A brush of cool sea air kissed upon her hot cheeks, the refreshing scent a relief after the stifling stench of the town. The harbor, the shoreline as crooked as the people it sheltered, came into view. Orienting herself with the help of the sun, Shiori knew their little boat should be somewhere to the left of their current position, although she couldn't see it. Zuko turned right and she followed.

The center of the town's docking area bustled with activity; the crew of a newly arrived ship disembarking for shore leave. As instructed, Shiori kept her ears open for Avatar related news as they passed, but most of the snippets of conversation that she caught were bawdy enough to make her ears burn. Zuko, she noticed, also sported a blush and their pace quickened. Heading inland a few streets, as instructed, brought them to the marketplace.

An open air affair, it sported few of the wooden booths or permanent shops Shiori mentally associated with the word 'marketplace'. Instead, vendors displayed their wares on large blankets or underneath tents. Pirates both haggled loudly and in secretive whispers and some goods, rather than being displayed proudly, were covered up. The occasional harsh shriek of a reptile-parrot periodically rang out, and here and there pigmy leopard-monkeys pranced on their master's shoulders. The faint but distinctive odor of fried foods permeated the air, taking Shiori instantly back to her childhood, when she and Keisuke would enjoy the local fire festival together.

They began to slowly meander through the place, ears perked up for Avatar news as they went. Pirates really did know a lot about world events, Shiori realized as Zuko loitered in front of a tent selling jewelry. The most common topics of conversation were which Earth Kingdom towns had fallen to Fire Nation control and where the Fire and Earth Navies had stepped up their patrols. Here and there the word 'Avatar' popped up. He had been sighted riding on a giant _unagi_ on Kiyoshi Island and was rumored to be partnered with a mask wearing thief. All of this was apparently old news, as Zuko, his face grim, pressed on.

In front of a table selling spices, Shiori overheard a couple of pirates laughing about the rumor that the Avatar had purloined an expensive water bending scroll from Captain Makai, of the Sea Drake. _The Avatar steals? _Recovering from her surprise, Shiori then realized that Zuko was suddenly no where to be seen. _Now where'd he get off to? This could be important._

"So, is it true?" one of the seated vendors asked a thin man wearing a dark green headband, just like her red one.

The pirate gave an exaggerated shrug, hoop earrings glittering in the sunlight as he answered in a slightly nasal tone. "Not only did it cost us two hundred gold pieces, but also our ship _and _all of our collected curios. The Captain was certainly _not_ pleased."

"Is that why you're working for the Fire Nation now?"

The green-clad pirate grinned. "What can I say? It's easy money and if it leads to the Avatar's capture, all the better for enterprising gentlemen such as ourselves."

They all laughed at that, ceasing only when the thin pirate pushed his long, dark brown hair out of the way and reached into his short-sleeved top. "And speaking of…" He whipped out a small sack, its contents of silver Fire Nation coins spilling across the table. The small group of seafaring thieves stood entranced as the man continued to talk. "Want to make some money? All you have to do is spread the rumor that a giant manta ray-bat has been seen on Misty Island in the coastal towns and islands north of here."

"Hey kid, are you going to buy something or what?"

Shiori jerked. She'd been so busy listening in that she forgot to keep up her ruse of shopping at a neighboring vendor's textile tent. Holding up her hands with an apologetic smile, she backed away from the tent, only to discover herself under the scrutiny of the gossiping pirates.

"Nice bow," the thin pirate exclaimed. "If you don't have enough money, you can trade it. Of course, I myself prefer these." He patted the waistline of his dark green pants, where the hilts of two short swords could be seen.

Shiori gripped her bow and shook her head, earning loud laughter all around. Realizing they were teasing her, she blushed and ducked her head. Hurrying past them, she hoped her 'commander' hadn't gotten too far away.

She rounded a large tent, nervously glancing over her shoulder to ensure a lack of interest. Bumping into someone hard, Shiori suddenly found a hand placed over her mouth, intense gold eyes meeting hers as Zuko held a shushing finger in front of his own mouth. Heart pounding in her chest, Shiori could only glare at the Prince as he cautiously peered around the corner. Satisfied she wasn't being followed, he turned back to her.

"What did you learn?"

"The Avatar stole a water bending scroll from the dark-haired pirate's ship. They're working for the Fire Nation now, spreading a rumor about something called a giant manta ray-bat being on Misty Island. It has something to do with the Avatar, but I'm not sure what."

"Good work." Zuko took another quick peek around the corner. Glancing back at Shiori, he said, "I need to know more, but that pirate can't see me. We'll follow him. Try not to act too suspicious. Can you do that?"

Shiori nodded mutely. _You should worry more about yourself. You don't blend in at all; and what does a Prince know about skulking anyways?_

Quite a bit was the surprising answer. He even purchased a few small trinkets as they shadowed the pirate, including a hooded cloak, which he used to partially hide his distinctive face and Fire Nation clothes. Apparently oblivious, the man they trailed was easy to keep track of. Captain Makai seemed to be well known amongst the vendors, and this character, his First Mate, obviously enjoyed a certain amount of notoriety himself. He handed bags of coins to a select few of his fellow seafaring traders, and then headed back to the harbor.

Zuko ceased imitating a casual shopper the moment the pirate left the marketplace, silently cat-pawing after the man. Shiori, trailing further behind, found herself impressed with the speed and agility Zuko displayed as he darted from hiding spot to hiding spot. Dressed in black, he would have made a good thief, she mused. Unfortunately, he ran out of cover at a distance too great to overhear the conversation out on the docks between the First Mate and his Captain.

Shiori, whose visage and clothing attracted no adverse attention, didn't bother to hide herself until she closed on her commander's position. At that point, Zuko's patience had already eroded to nil. He boldly strode out into the open, his newly purchased cloak billowing outward as the sea breeze caught it. Clueless as to the Prince's plan, Shiori went with him.

An older man, Captain Makai favored Fire Nation colors as opposed to the Earth Kingdom theme sported by his First Mate, although the blue pants and wide brimmed hat ensured he would never be mistaken as an actual citizen. The green reptile-parrot perched on his shoulder squawked and ruffled his feathers as Zuko approached, hood thrown back. The pirates recognized him instantly.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't our favorite banished Prince. You owe us a lot of money, boy. I think I'll take it out of your hide." The Captain emphasized his words with a hand on the hilt of a long sword.

_Zuko's…been banished? _Shiori's feet halted as the words sunk in. That couldn't be true, could it? She stared at him; willing him to look at her, to laugh and deny it, but he ignored her.

Zuko also ignored the threat. "Who's paying you to spread rumors?" he demanded. "What does it have to do with the Avatar? Tell me, and I might see fit to double your price."

Captain Makai snorted, and then laughed outright. "And maybe you'll return my mother's necklace too," he mocked. "Forget it kid; you're too much trouble. Or maybe I should say: you're _in _too much trouble. You remember my crew, don't you? Because they sure remember you." As the grey-haired pirate spoke, several pirates materialized. The First Mate gave a jaunty grin. He had known all along that he was being followed.

Zuko threw off his cloak and fell into a fighting stance. "Fine. Be that way. In the end, you'll still give me the information I want, right Shiori? Shiori?"

The Prince turned his head just enough to see his borrowed archer running away as fast as she could. With a muffled curse, he turned to face the semi-circle of encroaching pirates…

_**T.B.C.**_

_**A/N:**_ Sorry about the delay in posting, folks. I'm having a bit of trouble writing chapter fourteen and I want to keep a little bit ahead of where you're reading. Hopefully you won't have to wait too long for the next installment, but I make no promises. Also, I found it necessary to give the pirate Captain from 'The Waterbending Scroll" a name. Hopefully that didn't bother or confuse anyone. Til next time, thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Zuko wasn't sure why he was surprised when the girl took off. Wasn't that the story of his life: a constant struggle to achieve what should have come easy, what should have been his by birthright. But that's what made him strong. These low-life pirates were about to learn that the hard way. And some day… his father would realize it too.

With a sharp exhale of breath, Zuko sent two quick fire blasts towards the Captain, forcing the older man to dodge for cover. Without pause he dropped and whirled, a low arc of fire shooting out from his foot in an attempt to drive the pirates back. Unfortunately the nautical bandits were agile by nature, most choosing to jump over his attack rather than retreat from it.

The First Mate closed ground quickly, dodging another fireball while drawing his twin swords. Sparks flew as Zuko blocked a thrust with his iron wrist guard. Allowing the over confident pirate's own momentum to assist him, Zuko grabbed the man's wrist and pulled him off balance, taking possession of one of the Mate's swords in the process. The green-clad man turned his fall into a controlled tumble, striking out with a kick at Zuko's shin that forced the teen to jerk backwards awkwardly in order to avoid it.

The clang of metal against metal rang through the air; his wrist suddenly went numb and Zuko dropped the captured sword. Glancing to the left, he saw a burly, shirtless pirate twirling a weight on a chain. Already off balance, the fireball he shot at the man went wide and he knew he wasn't going to be able to dodge the lead weight's next strike.

The pirate, smirking, obviously knew it too. He twirled his weapon faster, then lashed out.

The high-pitched keen could have been easily overlooked, if Zuko hadn't already been a victim of what it portended. The weighted chain, speeding towards his head, reversed direction in an instant. The pirate stared stupefied at the white-fletched arrow that pinned the chain to a nearby crate. In quick succession two more arrows struck home, each splitting the last and locking the chain in place. As the cursing pirate reached to pull the arrows out, three more missiles pinned his sleeve to the crate, causing the man to turn pale and freeze.

Feeling a flash of relief, Zuko regained his balance in time to dodge a spear strike. Grinning fiercely, he set the wooden shaft on fire before tripping the lunging pirate up and sending him head first into the harbor. Another fire blast was enough to drive away a nunchuk wielder, while his unseen yu-yan ally pinned the sandals of another pirate to the dock. The man swiftly threw away his weapon and raised his hands in surrender.

"Enough of this," the Captain barked.

Several small black balls were tossed towards Zuko's position; he recognized them instantly, but there was nothing he could do as they exploded upon impact.

-------------------------

One eye closed, Shiori sighted down the shaft of her arrow, unaware of the small, satisfied smile adorning her lips. From her position on top of a nearby building, she could pick and chose her targets with ease. It was the chance she had been waiting for; an opportunity to prove her worth as a future yu-yan archer. Of course, the first order of business had been to distance herself from the actual combat, an act she realized belatedly that may have been misinterpreted by Prince Zuko. Still, she believed that she had been redeeming herself nicely. Each arrow struck its intended target; even Shi-Yun wouldn't have been able to find fault in that.

She fired three arrows in rapid succession, successfully pinning a pirate's sandals to the wood planking of the dock. Eyes wide, the man discarded his weapon. Shiori's smirk widened.

Searching for another suitable target, it was the archer's turn to be startled when a couple of the pirates reached into their pockets and started throwing small black balls towards Prince Zuko. With no time to think, Shiori shot a few of them in mid-air; blinking in surprise as they exploded into clouds of thick grey smoke. The balls tossed towards Zuko exploded too; the whole area became swiftly engulfed by the impenetrable haze.

Mentally uttering a few choice phrases she had recently acquired from the local populous, the girl opened her closed eye but did not relax the tension on her bowstring. She couldn't risk shooting blindly into a cloud of smoke occupied by the Fire Nation's crown prince; however, any pirates caught outside the smoke were fair game.

Biting her lip in frustration as the spreading smoke obscured more and more of the dock, she shifted her weight impatiently. There had to be something she could do, but what?

Fire balls and arcs of crimson light still emerged from the center of the haze, indicating Zuko fought on. They seemed random shots, rather than the controlled and directed blasts he had been using. One struck the rolled sail of a nearby anchored ship. A tendril of black smoke began rising from the highly flammable canvas; as Shiori watched, it swiftly became a column. That, in addition to the sounds of combat, began to attract unwanted attention. Remembering Zuko's words about the town being a firetrap, the girl grimaced as the fire started to spread and the shouts of the watchman arose. As indifferent as the town populous had seemed to the various fights that broke out randomly around them, they would not ignore a fire for long.

From atop the roof, she could hear doors slamming shut, and a buzz from within the buildings near the harbor that she identified as trouble. Shifting her bow to her shoulder, she grasped the spider-monkey rope that had assisted her ascent of the building. Shiori slid to the ground. She imagined that she could hear the pounding of footsteps, or was that her heart? They had to get out of here!

Dashing across the street and into the opaque, pirate created smoke, the teen ran smack into a seafarer, hard enough to knock her on her bottom. The bare-chested man gave her a gap toothed grin.

From the beginning of her training, Shiori had been taught to avoid close quarters combat. That didn't mean she was completely defenseless. Snatching an arrow from her quiver, she jabbed it into the pirate's shin. He let out a howl of pain as she used his distraction to regain her footing and scramble back into the surrounding haze.

Although still thick and obscuring, the cloud was beginning to dissipate enough to enable her to make out vague forms moving within it. But which one was Zuko? A second later and her question was answered by the sound of a familiar authoritative and demanding voice expressing the desire to know who had hired Captain Makai's crew to spread rumors. The indistinct, slim form held a bulkier one pinned to a stack of crates, one fist drawn threateningly back.

The grey haze swirled and eddied in a suspicious way to the Prince's left. Now that she was aware of Zuko's location, Shiori could take the risk. A loud cry confirmed her instincts as she sunk an arrow into the mist. Unfortunately, it distracted Zuko enough to allow his detainee to wiggle free. Not pausing her forward progress even to make her shot, Shiori clapped a hand on his arm as he made to pursue the lithe sailor.

The intense fire bender swung around, glowing red flame following the course of his fist. Shiori froze, eyes fixated on the impending blow. Thankfully, the firstborn of the Fire Lord had excellent reflexes. Not bothering to pull his strike, he instead redirected the blast to shoot directly to the girl's right, nearly catching a certain hobbling pirate unawares. Even with his perforated shin, the man managed to narrowly dive out of the way.

"What? What do you want?" the Prince asked crossly in response to Shiori's incessant tugging on his sleeve.

"You've set a ship on fire. The whole town's coming. We've got to get out of here!"

For a second, it looked as if Zuko was going to argue or outright refuse. But then a look of resignation crossed his face.

"Fine. Let's go."

Their escape from the smokescreen did not go unnoticed. Shiori wasn't the only combatant who had sought a bird's eye view of the proceedings; a crossbow wielding buccaneer had partially scaled the mast of a nearby docked vessel. Firing two crossbows simultaneously, he ensnared the Fire Nation teens in a net, all while alerting his shipmates to their attempted flight. After a brief moment of struggle, Zuko burned their way free with ease and in a manner, much to Shiori's relief, which did not injure them in the process.

Hearing the nasally voice of the First Mate closing in behind them, the teens fled, pushing their way past the first of the town residents who were beginning to gather ashore. Once free of the crowd, they broke out into an all out sprint down the curvy street towards Zuko's unseen boat; Captain Makai's crew in tenacious pursuit.

Shiori was surprised to find out that Zuko was in relatively good shape for a boy who spent the majority of his time on a ship. Still, she took pride in the fact that his physical prowess paled in comparison to a girl who had spent the last four years of her life in constant training. Outpacing both the Prince and the pirates, Shiori nimbly leapt to the top of a local merchant's cart, pausing only long enough to launch several arrows at Zuko's pursuers before hopping back down.

And just in time, as her crossbow bearing counterpart skewered two of the merchant's vegetables in her wake. Leaving the distraught man to wail about his cabbages, Shiori took off again.

Camped on her heels, Prince Zuko shoved the green-clad merchant out of his way before tipping the cabbage laden cart over, hoping the barrage of round heads would slow down or trip up the pirates. Following up on the earthbound assault with a head-high arc of fire, the teen put on a burst of speed to catch up with his borrowed archer. An archer, he noted with disgust, who wasn't even slightly winded yet.

"The ship should be… just around… that corner," he panted. The girl nodded, and then frowned slightly as a crossbow bolt splintered a nearby crate. Zuko could almost swear he heard her mutter something about sloppy marksmanship as they ran, but with the chaos around them it was impossible to be sure. They had almost reached the last bend in the road before a horrible thought almost stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Oh no! My Uncle!"

---------------------------

General Iroh hummed the melody to an ancient Fire Nation love ballad as he casually strode back to his nephew's boat. Jangling cheerily alongside his ample belly was a coin purse that had nearly doubled in size, despite the fact that one of his pai-sho playing opponents had kept a few tiles up his sleeves. Also within his possession were a bag of fresh fire flakes, a small, whimsical gold statuette depicting two platypus-bears playing shoji, and a collection of Earth Kingdom potpourris that he hoped would aid some of the more unpleasantly 'fragrant' areas of the ship.

Zuko should be pleased, Iroh mused, that he had shown such restraint at the local market. Of course, the teen was bound to be disappointed in the fact that Iroh had discovered little news about the Avatar. It was the one downside to what had otherwise been a most peaceful day.

Iroh took a deep breath and let it out in a satisfied sigh. The sun was shining, the gentle scent of potpourri lingered in the air; there was no such thing as a wasted day in Iroh's book. Pondering on how he might appeal to the young Prince's better sensibilities to allow the overworked crew a short shore leave; the retired General was caught off guard as he rounded a corner and had a familiar brown and tan clad form bounce off of him. Staggering back a step from the impact, Iroh offered a gentlemanly hand down to the shocked Shiori, who was blinking up at him with her mouth agape. The girl's eyes widened; she seized the offered hand and pulled down hard, forcing Iroh down just as a few throwing knives came streaking by.

"Uncle! There you are!"

"Prince Zuko? You made some new friends, I see."

The out of breath Prince fired a few blasts at the group of buccaneers chasing them. "No time for jokes. Get to the ship, now!"

Lurching back to his feet, the retired General made a break for the small boat while the younger fighters exchanged volleys. Scrambling inside, he put his fire bending abilities to good use, bypassing the smoldering coal fire to directly convert the water in the boiler into steam himself. As the gages trembled their way closer to the green zone, he heard two thuds as the teens made it on board. Iroh threw the boat in gear, backing them away from the dock as fast as he dared.

"Ha, ha," he heard Zuko call out to the cursing pirates. Shaking his head at the teen's audacity, it was then that Iroh realized that something large and jingly was absent from his waistline. Tching his tongue in disappointment, the Dragon stuck his head out of the cabin just in time to see a pirate hoist his purse aloft triumphantly, whilst one of his shipmates turned around and dropped his pants.

Zuko shot an errant fireball at the bare-bottomed man; Shiori's nimble fingers swiftly tied a length of rope to an arrow. In a matter of seconds, the white fletching was drawn back to her cheek, one eye closed as the girl sighted along its length. Shiori maintained her concentration even when an inexplicable, feather light touch brushed across the back of her neck. The sudden, excruciating bite on her thumb was not so easily ignored. With a startled yelp, she released the arrow, which, by some miracle of yu-yan training, managed to make it to its intended target.

The pirate holding Iroh's purse aloft lowered it with a curse as the anchored arrow pierced the upper part of the leather pouch. He grasped the shaft, determined to pull it out, but the reptile-parrot made his haste unnecessary. With an ear piercing squawk, it followed up on its attack on Shiori's thumb with a clawed scratch to her cheek. Then, as she clamped her bloody hand to her bleeding face, the Captain's pet winged out over the harbor water, severing her thin rope with its beak as it went.

An uproar of cheers rose from the gathered crew on the dock as the reptile-parrot returned to its master's shoulder.

"What do you think, Captain?" the First Mate inquired. "Should we go after them?"

Absently stroking the brilliant green plumage of his pet, the grey-haired man shook his head. "Naw. We'll catch up to our friend, the banished Prince, someday. Til then, drinks are on the Fire Nation!"

The raucous cheer that arose from the dock at the Captain's proclamation could be heard even from Zuko's rapidly retreating boat.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Shiori sat on a stack of fifty pound rice sacks in an out of the way nook of the galley. She was most definitely _not_ sulking, all appearances to the contrary. Just because she had been summarily dismissed by Prince Zuko as soon as they had returned to the ship, like yesterday's messenger hawk, did _not_ mean she had a reason to feel bad. Alright, maybe she felt a little resentful.

In her own mind, her feelings were thoroughly justified; _she_ had been the one to overhear the information General Iroh and Prince Zuko were now presumably discussing, and she assumed she would have some sort of role in whatever plan they developed. Wouldn't it save time to include her now, instead of shooing her away like a child who didn't belong at the adult table?

Shiori rubbed her cheek absently. Like most of their ilk, the scratches on her cheek pained her disproportionately to their size and depth. Her thumb, on the other hand, was completely entitled to throb with every heartbeat. Scowling, she moved the wounded digit experimentally. Stiff and sore with bandages wrapped around it, she still didn't think it would adversely affect her abilities. Maybe that was why Zuko and Iroh wanted to meet alone. Maybe Zuko thought her usefulness to his mission was at an end. Mentally bemoaning the unfairness of it all, Shiori didn't notice the approach of the cook until it was too late.

"Hey now. I thought I told you to let that thumb rest," Lee, who doubled as the ship's doctor, exclaimed. "Busy your hands with this then, if it will keep them out of mischief."

The chef handed her a sweet bun. Shiori accepted it with a small smile. It was hard to maintain her funk when Lee, who had admitted to having a niece back home about her age, constantly plied her with treats. It was one of the reasons she often found herself in the galley when not training or catching fresh air up on the deck. Although it was nice to have her own room to retreat to, she simply wasn't used to being alone.

By now Zuko's crew had gotten used to her silence, but the chef had adapted most quickly. He seemed a little bit younger than the majority of Zuko's crew, around thirty, maybe, which made him closest to her in age besides the Prince himself. And, unlike the rest of them, he lacked the abilities of a fire bender, making Shiori more comfortable in his presence. As Zuko's ship was undermanned, even for its small size, meals were served on request, as well as at specified times. Certain departments, like engineering, often sent one or two people to collect food for the rest of them. As a result, the dining area, as small as it was, never seemed overcrowded.

Not really hungry, Shiori nibbled at her sweet bun while watching Lee dance between making pelican-goose soup and rice for the crew and roast pelican-goose ala orange with steamed vegetables for the royals. Observing his kitchen choreography made Shiori smile in spite of herself. At one time, long ago, before Keisuke had been admitted to the Simetra Island training program, she had entertained the notion of becoming a chef. Even at such a young age, her aunt and uncle would often compliment her rudimentary cooking skills. Now that she was older, Shiori understood their kindness to her. Still, while other yu-yan trainees would often return from survival training thin and gaunt, she usually lost only a couple of pounds.

Shiori ducked her head as a self-deprecating smile blossomed across her face. As if one could compare the ability to catch and field dress a skunk-rabbit with what Lee was accomplishing here. But she couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy towards the man. No matter what, Lee would always have a function to serve. He'd never find himself cast aside like… like…

_Like a weapon that isn't currently needed; _the young archer concluded glumly. She wondered if this was part of what Master Zorin had been talking about; if having the attitude of a true yu-yan meant having to divorce her interest in the events that happened around her.

"_We are weapons, Shiori. And just like our bows, we don't care…" _

The teen stared down at her injured thumb, brows drawn down in thought.

"All I'm saying is, the man's an ass," an overly loud voice broke through her train of thought. Peeking out from her alcove of rice sacks, the teen spied Lieutenant Jee, along with the dayshift helmsman and one of the fire benders who often sparred with Prince Zuko.

Lieutenant Jee nodded a greeting to the cook before taking a seat in the dining area. "I don't think anyone's denying that, Shinzu, but you might want to think before shooting your mouth off. Zhao is an Admiral now and Prince Zuko's quest won't last forever. You never know; before the war is over we all might end up under Zhao's command."

The helmsman snorted derisively and Shinzu continued on as if Lieutenant Jee's quiet warning had not registered.

"Exactly. The man is an Admiral. He is already a member of the insider circle. What more does he want? You'd think he'd have better things to do with his time than compete with a sixteen year old boy! Hell, the way he acts you'd think he's the one who's been banished."

The word 'banished' seemed to hang like a pungent stick in the air; promptly filled by shushing noises from the other members of Shinzu's party. An awkward silence ensued.

"It's all right," Chef Lee murmured as he served the men tea. "The whole ship is well aware of Prince Zuko's circumstances by now. The Prince and his esteemed uncle are still in conference in the Prince's chambers. I brought them tea not long ago. And you never know. Perhaps Admiral Zhao wants to capture the Avatar out of an altruistic desire to serve our country's best interest."

The whole group erupted in laughter at Lee's softly spoken words. The topic of conversation shifted to the most beautiful women they had seen during their journey. Shiori tuned them out. She stared at the half-eaten sweet bun in her hand. So it was true then. Zuko was a banished Prince. In the heat of the moment, she had dismissed the pirate Captain's words as nonsense. She wondered if Headmaster Zorin knew; it certainly hadn't been mentioned in her classes. Surely he must, if he and General Iroh were old friends.

The information that Admiral Zhao wanted to capture the Avatar struck her as a harder blow. Perhaps lax in her knowledge of Fire Nation current events, she and every other yu-yan trainee always knew the name of the one commander they would some day serve. Up until recently it had been Colonel Shiloh, but just before she had left Simetra Island, it had been announced that Admiral Zhao had commandeered the squad of active duty yu-yan.

_Oh! That's why Prince Zuko needed a trainee. Because we only serve our teachers and our teachers only answer to the Fire Lord. If he and Admiral Zhao are competing, then I'm sure he'd never be able to get his hands on a real yu-yan. They are rivals…_

The possible ramifications of that made the fourteen year old's head spin. If she successfully helped Zuko now, would it destroy her chances of becoming a true yu-yan, even if she passed the fifth year exam? Why would Master Zorin set her up like this?

At the sound of her heart-heavy sigh, Chef Lee wordlessly pressed a cup of tea in her empty hand before resuming his bustling. Too preoccupied to even give the man a grateful smile, Shiori took a small sip. She had given up on the half eaten bun, which now tasted like ash in her mouth.

_If I don't serve Zuko faithfully, I fail. If I do serve and Zuko succeeds… I might not have a place to go after I graduate. Arrg! This is so unfair! What should I do? What would Keisuke do?_

Another horrible thought dawned on her. Zuko was a Prince, heir-apparent to the Fire Throne. High treason was the only crime she could think of that would warrant banishment. Did serving a traitor make her a traitor too? Maybe Master Zorin hadn't known…

It took several sips of tea and deep, cleansing breaths before she was able to excise her growing panic. Surely General Iroh, Dragon of the West and hero of the Fire Nation, wouldn't be here if the worst were true. And she couldn't imagine the stern but fair headmaster deliberately setting her up to fail. No… this was a test. A test to see if she could rein in her spirit enough to faithfully serve her future commander; that is how Master Zorin had described it. Shiori thought she was beginning to understand. If she was able to smother her doubts enough to follow Zuko's orders without hesitation or excessive thought, then she'd be able to serve anyone. It was the ultimate test to see if she could truly be yu-yan.

_Well, _the girl thought ruefully, _if I make it through this, the final exam, whatever it is, ought to be a breeze._

---------------------

Prince Zuko, having finished his faithful recitation of events on Pirate Island, sat cross-legged on a futon. He remained seated, trying to ward off the urge to fidget or pace, reminding himself firmly that a good ruler needed a calm and level head in order to react appropriately to trying situations. Across from him, his uncle was the epitome of those qualities as he mulled over Zuko's words.

"Hm. A giant manta ray-bat, eh? That's interesting."

"Yes," Zuko confirmed; his impatience made the word sound a bit curt. "I know this rumor has something to do with capturing the Avatar; but what? Why would he even care?"

Unable to contain his pent up energy, Prince Zuko vacated his cushion and began his familiar pacing, his casual robes fluttering around him as he walked. Iroh, used to this sort of behavior, remained seated, his golden eyes distant as he thought.

"Well, it is clearly a trap. Manta ray-bats have long been sparse in population, even before your great-grandfather's time." Zuko ceased pacing to listen intently. His uncle rubbed his beard as he spoke.

"They were creatures of nearly legendary status to the Air Nomads, much as our dragons have become to us."

"So, does that mean they're extinct then?" Zuko queried cautiously.

Iroh smiled at the boy. "Most likely, but that isn't what I meant. The Air Nomads long ago gave up their attachment to the material world. Their alliance with the element of air and their bonds with the sky bison allowed them to freely roam the world. Giant manta ray-bats also fly. In fact, once they reach adulthood, they rarely return to the ground. They are solitary creatures that used to wander the world without regard to the boundaries the four nations had established.

Dragons, of course, were native to the Fire Nation. And the Air Nomads themselves bred the sky bison at the Eastern Air Temple. But manta ray-bats never really singled out a nation to call home. The Air Nomads respected those qualities that so mirrored their own culture. Unfortunately, their migrant nature, in combination with an ever expanding human population, led to their slow decline. It was Yang-Chen, the previous Avatar from Air, who negotiated a treaty amongst the four nations to keep the giant manta ray-bat's largest remaining breeding grounds free from human contamination."

"Misty Island?" Zuko hazarded a guess.

Iroh inclined his head at the boy. "Indeed. Misty Island is close to the Fire Nation's sovereign waters. It is a volcanic island; lava still flows quietly beneath the surface, keeping the place temperate year round. At the same time, its proximity to the north subjects it to a constant flow of cool air, causing the mist that gives the island its name. It is a large island, dense in forestation; a place that was perfect for young manta ray-bats to safely mature. Someone has done his research. If this rumor reaches the Avatar's ears, as isolated as he is from the rest of his culture, he'll be unlikely to resist the urge to attempt to find the beast."

Zuko crossed his arms in front of his chest and snorted. "I think you are overestimating his maturity. He'll probably just want to ride on its back, like with the Kyoshi Island giant koi."

"Either way, my nephew, this trap is almost guaranteed to work. The question is: who was clever enough to set it?"

The teen rubbed his shaved head absently, a scowl darkening his features. "Zhao. It has to be. Since his promotion, he's taken over the search for the Avatar in this sector. The pirates were throwing around Fire Nation coins. He's the only one who would have the resources to hire them. Which means he'll have an armada surrounding the island already."

Zuko heaved a heavy sigh, his golden eyes looking in desperation towards his uncle. The older man shook his head slightly and gave his nephew an encouraging smile. "I do not think so, Prince Zuko. Surrounding the island with ships would surely scare the Avatar off. Most likely he'll have men on the ground, his best hunters, to take the Avatar down."

Zuko's one good eye widened. "The yu-yan, you mean." The teen whirled and marched towards the door, only to be interrupted by his uncle.

"Wait! Where are you going? It's almost dinnertime."

"To the helm. We have to get this ship underway to Misty Island. And I want to make sure the cook took care of Shiori's thumb. We're going to need her."

The Prince departed, muttering something obscene about reptile-parrots as he went. Iroh smiled fondly at his nephew's back before his thoughts became more serious. As he had told the Prince, giant manta ray-bats had never boasted a large population. In fact, it had been during the age of Avatar Yang-Chen that their already sparse numbers diminished to dangerously low levels, thus spurring her to protect their largest known breeding grounds. By Roku's time, their numbers had been calculated to be in the single digits. It was highly unlikely that a modern day Fire Nation citizen would know a thing about the creatures, let alone about their historic haunts.

Iroh agreed with Zuko's surmise that Admiral Zhao was the probable culprit behind the trap; but where had he gotten his hands on the information? The former heir of Fire Lord Azulan only knew about it because he had often snuck into the Dragonbone Catacombs, a veritable library of Fire Nation history and Fire Sage secrets, as a youth. Born into a house of minor nobility, Zhao wouldn't have had access to those hallowed grounds.

It was a vexing conundrum. Iroh couldn't help but admiring the intelligence behind the plan though. Not only was it practically guaranteed to attract the Avatar's presence, the island itself was the perfect place to capitalize on the unique skills of the yu-yan. Zhao's promotion, as regrettable as it was from Zuko's perspective, was clearly well deserved.

A gentle tap on the door interrupted the retired General's thoughts. Chef Lee entered, the savory aroma of roast pelican-goose rapidly filling the small chamber as the man laid out the covered dishes on Zuko's table.

Mouth watering, Iroh hardly noticed the slight chef's departure. Of course, his nephew would choose _now_ to be absent, but it would be extremely rude to start without him. Still, maybe a tiny taste wouldn't hurt.

Tipping back the cover from his plate, Iroh snuck his chopsticks in to liberate a generous chunk of sauce covered meat. Then, after the succulent tidbit had melted away in his mouth, he took an equivalent amount from Zuko's plate to even out the appearance of the servings. Temporarily satisfied, he sat back to wait for his nephew. The minutes dragged by, each torturously prolonging the unsatisfying state of hunger that the twin pieces of meat had piqued rather than sated.

"Hm, this is an unfortunate dilemma," Iroh muttered to himself. "On one hand, I should wait for Prince Zuko. On the other, it is an insult to Lee's hard work to sit here and allow it to grow cold. Hm."

It was much later that Shiori, returning from her nightly run around the deck, witnessed a slightly scorched Iroh emerging from Prince Zuko's chambers. The elderly man brushed soot from his sleeve, giving the bemused archer a wide grin as he did so.

"I have such an understanding nephew."


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Music night on Zuko's ship seemed to elicit two entirely different responses from the crew, Shiori noticed; one of enthusiasm and one of good natured dread. Well, three if you counted the Prince's outright disdain. She had tried to keep an open mind about the proceedings. That was until, of course, she realized that 'music night' consisted of the older members of the crew playing and singing old Fire Nation ballads; some so ancient she could practically smell the mold in the air. As soon as politeness allowed, she retreated back into the interior of the ship, at a loss as to where she could practice her archery if the crooners were going to occupy the forward deck into the night.

The answer had come far below, on the level that held the small landing vessel on which she had arrived. The small boat was kept at the stern of the ship; towards the bow was a surprise: four komodo-rhinos, housed in well tended pens. More importantly from her perspective, the area was large and laden with bales of both hay and straw, perfect for short range practice. She wasted no time in setting up a target.

Fifteen minutes later found her drilling an exercise she had never imagined _willingly_ participating in: the inward spiral. She had set up a regular circular target, yet her first arrow came no where close to the bull's-eye. Instead she planted it at the very top of her target; the next arrow striking about four inches away to the right and slightly in.

This was a meditative exercise, one that supposedly aided an archer's focus and judgment. The arrows would go around the perimeter of the target, gradually coiling inward so that the final arrow of her quiver ended up in the bull's-eye. Shiori had always hated this particular discipline; it was difficult and tedious at the same time. Few of the trainees could accomplish the task perfectly and Shiori was no exception. Usually she ended up reaching the bull's-eye before depleting her supply of arrows. Still, it was a task that required almost complete focus, and she desperately needed to divert her mind from the well-worn and frustrating path it tended to wander these days.

Stillness ruled her new sanctum, relatively speaking. The omnipresent hum of the engines was easy to tune out, as was the stirring of the penned rhinos. Although not the sweetest smelling of creatures, the komodo-rhinos and their various accessories and provisions at least provided the young archer's nose some relief from the odor of burning coal.

Concentrating on the careful placement of each arrow, her breathing slow and steady, Shiori soon found herself in the quiet place, a state of mind which allowed her to exist solely in the moment. She knew without question that each arrow would strike exactly where she aimed; her mind, unfettered from the worries that had plagued her from the revelation of Zuko's status, reveled in the peace.

Lost in the task at hand, she was completely unaware that someone had joined her until he cleared his throat loudly. Shiori was enough of a yu-yan to prevent her sudden surprise from altering her aim too much; still, she scowled as the arrow ended up a half inch away from where she had intended. Resisting the urge to glare at the intruder, the girl instead reached for another arrow. Her focus was ruined, but that didn't mean she had to acknowledge her 'guest'.

Unfortunately, Prince Zuko was not one to be ignored. "We need to talk," he said bluntly, sitting himself on a bale of hay to her left.

Lips thinned in annoyance, Shiori completed her shot before sparing the Prince a glance. Sarcasm colored her thoughts. _Of _course_ we do. It's not like I'm trying to _accomplish_ something here. Go ahead and talk._

Some of her irritation must have shown on her face, for the Prince, who had been looking uncharacteristically uncertain, narrowed his golden eyes at her. Shiori matched his gaze for a minute or two before dropping her own. She did this not out of deference to his rank,(although that would have been appropriate) but because his scar now seemed to scream at her every time she looked at it.

_It doesn't matter if he's been banished, _she told herself for the umpteenth time. _Zuko is my commander. So long as he doesn't ask me to assassinate the Fire Lord, I will follow his orders to the letter._

Keeping her eyes down only long enough for her face to regain a modicum of neutrality, she lifted them to find Zuko silently studying her. Curiosity finally outweighing her annoyance, Shiori lifted a questioning brow at him.

The older teen sighed. "Look, I know you're a good archer," he made a vague gesture towards her target, "and obviously you can handle yourself in a fight…" Here Zuko trailed off, his good eyebrow furrowed down as he made an apparent effort to be tactful. "But the Avatar isn't in the same league as those pirates. I need to know if you can face a bender in combat… and I think you should practice against one before we reach Misty Island."

_Oh here we go again with that attitude of bender superiority. _It took an effort not to roll her eyes at him. And then the second part of his sentence sunk in._ Wait a minute. You don't actually want me to shoot arrows at your crew, do you? _The sixteen year old was looking at her in earnest and Shiori felt her lips twitching with mirthful disbelief.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked.

For a brief moment, Shiori allowed her imagination to run wild with images of Prince Zuko desperately dodging an onslaught of white-fletched missiles. Then she turned serious. "It's a bad idea. Someone might get hurt. And besides, I've already hunted a bender before."

The boy's good eye widened at the revelation before narrowing suspiciously at her. "When? How?" he demanded.

Shiori shrugged. "It's the fourth year final exam. Each yu-yan trainee is given two weeks to hunt down and subdue with minimal damage a prisoner freed in the hinterlands of Simetra. Earth benders, usually; that's what I had; although I've heard that some students find it cathartic to hunt fire benders instead." Shiori averted her eyes as she said the last; she wasn't about to tell Zuko that her brother was one of those assigned a fire bender to help assuage his feelings of resentment.

The teen Prince shook his head. "Wait a minute. Back up. You're saying that Earth Kingdom prisoners… and sometimes Fire Nation ones, all benders, are released on your island in order to test your ability to hunt them down? That can't be right."

"Why not? Like you said, it's not enough for us to be able to hit stationary targets. Out in the real world we'll almost always be up against benders. Lots of our training, especially in the fourth and fifth years, is dedicated to how to penetrate a bender's defenses."

Shiori swallowed hard, not used to speaking so much at one time. Her golden-eyed commander stared down at his hands, a dissatisfied expression on his face. Bemused at his reaction, the young archer took a cautious swig of her water canteen. Uncertain if she could resume her target practice, she stood there awkwardly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. When Zuko remained silent, she resumed her stance and began reaching for an arrow.

"Wait. I thought you skipped a year."

Shiori sighed, letting her white-fletched objective slip back into her quiver. "I did. The third year exam was a pure test of archery. We ran a course and shot targets as we went. We were scored on things like time and accuracy."

The girl tried without much success to keep the pride out of her voice as she continued. Her explanation of the exam was simplistic at best, and she knew Prince Zuko was unlikely to grasp the magnitude of her accomplishment. Only a yu-yan would have understood. "I scored the highest, not only for my year, but beating the past five years of top scorers. Then Master Zorin asked if I wanted to give the fourth year exam a try."

The young archer could remember how shocked and excited she had been to be asked. Unlike her current challenge, there had been no threat of consequences if she had failed. And pulling it off meant being a year closer to reuniting with her brother.

"Of course, I said 'yes'."

"And you passed? You hunted down an earth bender and subdued him all by yourself?"

Shiori frowned at the Prince. She reached into her quiver, nocked and shot an arrow. It made a satisfying thunk as it struck her makeshift target.

"Obviously."

Shiori didn't like Zuko's line of questioning. She didn't like thinking about her fourth year trial, one that, despite her archery skills, she had been ill prepared to face. Even now she could still picture the Earth Kingdom man's pale, gaunt face, framed by shaking hands that slowly rose above his head. His eyes haunted her the most, emerald spheres that had leaked moisture when he finally surrendered. They were dead eyes, as if one of her arrows had accidentally struck his heart. Her euphoric spike of triumph at that moment had been tainted by some emotion she still had difficulty completely defining.

No she didn't like remembering at all. But like a komodo-chicken with a bone, Zuko obviously wasn't going to let the subject drop.

"Did you kill him?"

Shiori released a sigh through clenched teeth, her discomfort with the subject rapidly turning into irritation. _If you're going to ask personal questions, you could at least listen to the answers. I already told you 'with minimal damage'. And if anyone should be answering questions, it should be you. Why are you banished? What in the world did you do to deserve it?_

But the yu-yan trainee couldn't ask questions, she could only answer them. Making an effort to keep her voice polite, she stared at her partially completed spiral as she responded.

"No. We were told to do it with the least amount of harm possible. I didn't even risk using a blunt-tipped arrow. They can cause some serious injuries if you're not careful. I don't think… I don't think the prisoners were told anything. They were simply released, and they fought accordingly."

Shiori rubbed her upper arm, remembering how her target had caught her off guard. She had never even seen an earth bender before; luckily for her, the man seemed taken aback by finding himself hunted by a young teenaged girl. He had hesitated after his initial assault, giving her a chance to retreat and reconsider her strategy.

"Fewer than half of the trainees who take the exam pass it, for one reason or another."

She could remember seeing the battered and bloody body of a fourth year student being carried past her on a stretcher, painful whimpers slipping out of his mouth. She could hear the echoes of a newly dismissed archer, screaming that he hadn't had a choice but to kill, that it had been a life or death decision.

And then there had been her target. After her first and nearly disastrous encounter with him, she had learned to keep her distance, using the dense forest to her advantage. She shot arrows at him at every opportune moment she could: when he bent to take a drink from a stream, when he tried to sleep, even when he tried to relieve himself, purposefully missing him by a hair each time. When he sought refuge in earth bent caves or tents made of stone, she killed skunk-rabbits and ferret-possums and threw their pungent carcasses around his camp.

It had been a contest of wills, one that had lasted days. Near the end, her exhausted enemy had started talking to himself and launching random assaults at the surrounding forest. Mini quakes rocked the terrain; boulders would fly spontaneously, careening off the trees that hid her. And he uprooted the trees themselves, nearly catching her unawares on more than one occasion.

Sleep deprived, bruised, physically exhausted and hungry, she had been on the verge of giving up on her plan and using a blunted arrow to end the hunt when he suddenly unleashed a chaotic fit of earth bending. The ground around him had literally exploded, sending trees and earth flying through the air, followed closely by a lung choking cloud of airborne dirt.

Terrified, Shiori had weathered the storm crouched behind an ancient tree, arms covering her head, her face tucked into her sweat drenched shirt and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. The whole time hoping with all of her heart that she was out of range of anything large enough to be deadly. The silence in the forest after the attack was deafening. No sounds of birds, no scurrying of small woodland creatures, even the insects were still.

Dust hung heavily in the air. Cautiously peeking out from around her tree, Shiori could see the Earth Kingdom man standing in the center of a large, newly formed crater, the steady rise and fall of his shoulders the only movement his body made. His back was to her. She had been far enough away that the thrown trees had missed her, although several boulders had crashed through her section of still standing woods.

Her heart hammered so hard in her chest that she was surprised he couldn't hear it in the stillness. She was terrified and angry at the same time. Part of her wanted to puke. Instead she had forced her trembling hands to grasp an arrow.

Defiantly she sent out a shot; this one just nicking the inside of his thigh. The man had screamed, a terrible, unearthly sound. And then he had surrendered.

-------

Zuko watched as Shiori's eyes grew distant and the silence between them stretched. Not for the first time since she had boarded his ship, he wondered about the yu-yan system of training. If she was fourteen now, that meant she had probably had been thirteen when she had hunted down the earth bender. It was good news for him, he supposed. The test she had described sounded exactly like what he wanted her to do to the Avatar. Of course, the best case scenario would have him as the one who subdued the boy… but with Zhao on the prowl, he'd take the air bender however he could get him. Still, the whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth…

Since his banishment, Zuko hadn't given the war much thought. It had nothing to do with him now; he couldn't afford to let his attention wander and capturing the Avatar and reclaiming his honor was the only goal in his life. But that didn't mean he had forgotten the lessons of his school days.

Fire benders were superior to the other types of bender; their nation was more prosperous and advanced. His great-grandfather Sozen had seen this and had decided to generously share the Fire Nation's gifts with the world. Unfortunately, the other nations were stubborn and full of backwards barbarians who had refused to accept the Fire Nation's largess. War had ensued and Zuko had been taught that a Fire Nation victory was critical for the ultimate betterment of the people of the world.

Ever cautious about questioning his father's policies, Zuko still couldn't help but wonder whether war was the best way to achieve the Fire Nation's somewhat ambiguous goals. And although he could appreciate the practicality of the exercise, how did using Earth Kingdom citizens, even if they _were_ prisoners, as target practice for Fire Nation archers promote any of the goals the Fire Sages said the war was supposed to accomplish?

It was almost as if the Fire Nation was the one controlled by barbarians. Zuko shuddered at the treacherous contemplation, but he couldn't stop the progress of his train of thoughts. If hunting men down and subduing them was the _fourth_ year test, what in the world was the _fifth_?

"Shiori," Zuko called out softly, watching as the girl's brown eyes blinked and slowly refocused on him. "What is the yu-yan final exam?"

She blinked owlishly at him for a moment before answering. "I don't know. All I know is, it doesn't test our archery skills like the third and fourth year exams. It tests our spirits; our ability to live the life of a yu-yan archer."

"Huh." Lost in his own thoughts, Zuko's mind barely registered the resumption of the steady sound of arrows penetrating canvas and hay.

_**`TBC...**_


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: **All right guys, here's the deal. I've been a lazy bum all summer and haven't really worked on this at all. But I feel guilty, seeing how many hits the last chapter has, knowing that people keep clicking here looking for an update, only to be disappointed. So here's an update. You can consider this story to be on partial hiatus. That means, I'm continuing it, but the updates might be slow in coming. Again appologies and thanks for your continued patience.

**Chapter Thirteen**

Hope was a funny thing, General Iroh mused as he paid only half a mind to the teaching game of pai-sho he was playing. It could be as strong and powerful as a dragon or as small and fragile as a butterfly. Not so long ago, he had feared that his nephew had lost his hope, when the news of Zhao's promotion seemingly crushed his spirit. Up until that point Prince Zuko had dauntlessly pursued the Avatar, even when there had been no sign of his existence for the first two years of his hunt. Iroh's role had been, and still was, a precarious one. He attempted to temper the boy's highs and lows, neither wanting his hopes to become unrealistic (and thereby sparing him overwhelming disappointment) nor so wan that he became despondent. It would have been a tricky balancing act to master even if Zuko had been a normal teen instead of a banished Prince, but Iroh believed himself up to the challenge.

Still, there were times when he vacillated, like now. Although he personally felt Prince Zuko's chances for capturing the Avatar on Misty Island were slim, he was hesitant to say anything at this point. The teen currently engaging in an energetic conversation with Lieutenant Jee and the helmsman was so different from the dejected boy of a few weeks ago that Iroh was reluctant to interfere.

So he played his favorite game; the small bridge enabling him to keep an ear on Prince Zuko's strategy meeting at the same time. Currently they were plotting a course that would bring the ship into a small but deep harbor at Misty Island. His nephew, who usually flew by the seat of his pants when it came to capturing the Avatar, had obviously put a bit more thought into the impending operation. He asked if it were possible to bring the ship in at night and was actually listening to his subordinates' opinions and suggestions.

Iroh was proud of the signs of maturation Zuko was showing, not only in his interactions with the crew, but in the more careful and studied approach he was using to achieve his goal. He seemed to be making more of an effort to get along with Shiori too; all were signs of improved leadership skills, which in turn gave Iroh hope that one day his country would be in superb hands.

The three man conference ended and Prince Zuko came to stand next to his seated uncle. "Well, it's all settled. We'll arrive at the harbor tonight. I'll take the soldiers, a few 'rhinos and Shiori and disembark. You'll take the ship to the lee side of Komodo Island. It's in Fire Nation waters, but if I'm not on board it shouldn't matter."

Iroh couldn't help but hear the touch of bitterness in his nephew's voice as he spoke, not that he could blame the boy for it. "Komodo Island? Prince Zuko, you do understand that if you signal for our help it will take over an hour for the ship to return?"

"I know, Uncle, but the Avatar is least likely to fly in from the west, so that is the best place to hide the ship."

Iroh slid a pai-sho piece across the table before giving his nephew an approving smile. "And its harbors are too shallow to allow Admiral Zhao's ships in; very good Prince Zuko."

The boy flushed slightly before bowing his head. "Well, it was actually Lieutenant Jee's idea."

"Ah. Knowing when to follow the advice of your subordinates…"

"…Is a sign of a great leader. I know, Uncle. You've told me before."

Embarrassment made Zuko slightly curt, but Iroh wasn't done with the boy yet. "Prince Zuko, you do realize that the advantage here lies with Admiral Zhao? He has more men than you, fully trained yu-yan archers, and they have had time to establish themselves on the island. Also, we do not know how long he has been spreading his rumor; it is possible that the Avatar has already come and gone, or that he might not come at all."

The elder man risked a glance at his nephew. Hope was necessary. It kept Zuko treading water where others would have long ago drowned. But too much hope or unrealistic expectations would be just as disastrous as no hope at all. And while Iroh would have preferred to be a constant source of enthusiastic support, he loved his nephew too much to placate him with falsehoods. To his surprise, the young Prince looked more thoughtful than put out by his words of caution.

"I know, Uncle," he said finally. "That's why my first goal upon arriving at the island is to gather information. And I have a plan for that too."

"You do?"

Iroh's unguarded comment made Zuko scowl. Turning back to his on-going game of pai-sho, the retired General made a quick recovery. "Er, of course you do, Prince Zuko. Very good!" He heard a disbelieving snort behind him. Apparently his nephew's bout of even-temperedness was at its end.

"Do you know where Shiori is? I need to talk to her."

"If she's not on deck, try the rhino pens. That girl certainly knows the value of practicing her basics."

Iroh could feel the glare his teasing words provoked and waited for the usual surly retort or demonstrative fire bending. When the Prince made to leave without giving either response, Iroh found himself overwhelmed with a flood of affection. He turned slightly to call after the boy. "Prince Zuko, Misty Island is a very damp place. Make sure you pack warmly."

"I know, Uncle."

"Oh, and be sure to take some ginger root with your supplies, in case someone catches cold."

Zuko was walking away quicker now, his cheeks flushed. "I know, I know!"

"And, Prince Zuko…"

"Arg!"

A belch of flame and smoke temporarily obscured the helm; when it cleared Zuko was long gone. Blinking, Iroh refocused on the pai-sho board, while his opponent continued to stare after the Prince. He slid a tile across the board.

"Looks like I win again," the satisfied General declared.

-----

Shiori was indeed in the forward compartment. Zuko found her hanging upside down from one of the cold water pipes, doing what looked like sit-ups. She caught sight of him immediately and snagged the pipe with her hands, freeing her knees and landing cat-like on her feet. She looked at him expectantly.

"We're going to land at Misty Island tonight," Zuko began without preamble, "and I have a mission for you."

The girl wiped the sheen of sweat off of her face and tucked a few loose strands of straight brown hair away before giving him a genuine smile. Encouraged, he elaborated.

"We figure it was Zhao who hired the pirates to spread the rumor about the mantis ray-bat. Most likely he's already stationed men on the island; probably some fire benders and the yu-yan he commandeered from Colonel Shiloh. What we need to know is where they're camped at, how long they've been there and whether or not the Avatar has been spotted or captured yet."

Zuko pulled out a scroll map of Misty Island and unfurled it onto a nearby bale of hay. He was so into sharing his plan that he failed to notice that the smile on Shiori's face was rapidly fading into a look of alarm.

"The Avatar _will_ show up; I know he will. Capturing him is my destiny. But, it's possible we've missed him…" Zuko's hands began tightening into fists at the thought. With an effort, he forced them to relax.

"Anyways, when we land, we'll need information. That's where you come in. You're practically a yu-yan, so it'll be easy for you to track down Zhao's camp and infiltrate it. You can find out where he has stationed his men and whether or not he has any other plans up his sleeves. Then…"

"No, I can't."

Prince Zuko, not expecting to be interrupted, shifted his gaze from the map to the girl. She had gone a few shades pale, her ruddy eyes wide as one hand touched the omnipresent red headband on her brow. "I can't," she repeated softly, "they'll know I'm not yu-yan."

Zuko frowned. "If it's your clothes you're worried about, we can make you a yu-yan outfit. A black headband, some face paint… you'll be fine." He impatiently turned back to the map; in his mind, the matter settled.

Shiori stared in horror at the back of Zuko's shaved head, fighting the impulse to grab the high-tied ponytail and give it a spiteful pull. It was one thing to serve the Prince while her future commander remained a shadowy rival to his goal; it was quite another thing to be asked to directly oppose the man. The older teenager obviously didn't know what he was asking… and what did he _mean_ that he'd give her a black headband and some face paint, as if that was all that was required to turn her into a proper yu-yan?

Shiori found her state of near panic turning sharply into anger. No, he didn't understand; he didn't understand anything. And why should he? Born a Prince, born lucky, as Keisuke would have said; what would he know about the necessity of hard work and dedication to achieve a goal? What would he know about not having a place in the world unless you chiseled one out for yourself?

_Heh, how stupid I've been, working hard, training day and night for years, tolerating challenges and tests like this one, when clearly it was only a change of wardrobe that I required._

Zuko, oblivious to the mood swings going on behind him, was blithely reviewing points of interest on the map, too absorbed in the task to realize that his audience wasn't paying any attention. Ire and desperation mounting to the point of rashness, Shiori spoke over him.

"It won't work."

One of Zuko's hands tightened into a fist, then relaxed slightly as he gave her a golden-eyed glare over his shoulder. "I thought you weren't supposed to speak unless I asked you a question."

The trainee could feel the anger flash in her eyes and for once did not care. She tilted her chin up rebelliously, her jaw clenched so tight that it ached. The Prince stared at her, turned back to his map and then, with an irritated snort, whirled around to face her fully. Standing erect with his arms crossed in front of his chest, the sixteen year old attempted to stare her down; however, compared to the masters on Simetra Island, Shiori found his glower lacked the intensity to properly cow her.

The silence in the chamber stretched; only the oblivious rhinos stirred, until Zuko finally broke.

"What!? What is it that won't work?"

Shiori took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. "The yu-yan are too small of a group to be infiltrated by a stranger, even one who knows their ways. And besides, even if I could somehow fool the others, my brother Keisuke, he'd recognize me for sure and he'd know I'm too young to be a graduate."

Zuko blinked at her. "You have a brother?"

Shiori gave a tight-lipped nod. Even if the Prince couldn't understand how important it was for her not to be seen by Admiral Zhao, surely he'd know that she couldn't risk embarrassing her only brother. Her whole goal in becoming yu-yan was to reunite them, not to find herself opposing him because of stupid fire bending nobles who had nothing better to do but squabble over a piece of Avatar-catching glory.

But rather than an expression of dawning comprehension at the situation he was trying to put her in, Prince Zuko's countenance took a turn for the worse. Eyes narrowed, he stared at her with growing contempt.

"An _older_ brother?" he asked.

Puzzled by this line of questioning, Shiori just nodded.

The older teen's voice had become dangerously quiet. "And I suppose he didn't skip a year, unlike his _natural_ _genius_ of a little sister."

_Natural genius? What is he going on about? "_No, he didn't."

"Of _course_ not. Things are just _easy_ for you; aren't they? Your brother works hard and tries his best, but your father loves you more because you're just _so _perfect. I bet you don't even want to be yu-yan. You just couldn't stand him being better than you at something, so you had to follow along and show him up at archery too."

The sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh seemed to echo throughout the chamber. Shiori wasn't sure who was more surprised: the Prince, whose cheek was beginning to glow red where she had slapped him, or herself. Her hand stung, but not as much as the hot, angry tears that threatened to overwhelm her eyes.

"I _love_ my brother," she hissed. "I haven't seen my parents since I was three; they're too busy being big, important fire benders to care about what their non-bending children are up to. Keisuke is my only family; he's the only one who matters to me. Once I'm yu-yan, we'll be together again, as equals. It won't matter who got there first or how long it took them…"

Shiori's arms wrapped around herself in a one person hug. Only the barest thread of self control kept her from breaking down into unintelligible sobs, for the gravity of what she had just done had started to sink in. Forget talking back; she had struck a Prince, _the_ Prince. Banished or not, that had to be an extremely punishable offense. Despite everything she had just said about reuniting with Keisuke, she had just flushed her one chance of doing so down the toilet. Ducking her head in shame, she darted past the stupefied boy and fled the room.

Zuko stood immobilized, anger waging war with guilt. Since his banishment, he had had few opportunities to interact with girls his own age, nearly none if one discounted the Water Tribe girl. One thing he remembered clearly though, was that making girls cry was a bad thing. His frustration at the situation seethed just under the surface; he had too much to deal with as it was without adding a temperamental teenager to the mix. Why did everything always seem to blow up in his face?

Zuko growled a little at himself, not daring to fire bend in the hay and grain laden environment. Then an image of his mother's kind face formed in his memory. She had made him apologize the few times he had accidentally inspired tears from Ty-Lee, even though Azula was more often than not the true cause of said tears.

Grimacing as his guilt won out; the teen Prince realized that Shiori wasn't Azula and he had no right to accuse her of Azula-type motivations. What did it matter to him why she wanted to be a yu-yan? So long as she functioned as one while serving him, that's what was important.

Prince Zuko shifted his weight, debating on whether or not to leave things alone or attempt to fix them. A childish part of him wished for his Uncle's gentle wisdom, but he couldn't quite bring himself to admit to the man that he had provoked yet another fight with the younger girl.

"Well, I guess I can't make things much worse," he muttered to himself. A komodo-rhino snorted softly in its stall. Scowling, Zuko set off to soothe Shiori's ruffled feathers. With a sigh, he found himself wistfully thinking of his sister's stoic friend Mai, who never seemed to react emotionally to anything. Of course, he had never accused her of trying to spitefully usurp her brother's glory either.

Shaking his head at his error in judgment, Zuko slowly headed in the direction of Shiori's room, where hopefully he'd find the girl and somehow make things right.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm back to working on this story, so the up-dates shouldn't be so long in coming anymore. I've resolved to finish this story before working on anything else. I can't promise the chapters will actually be _good,_ but at least the story will move towards the conclusion that I've always envisioned.

**Chapter Fourteen**

Packing her things up took no time at all. Her crate of supplies sealed and her clothes stuffed into her duffle bag, the only thing left to do was await her fate.

Shiori nervously paced her small room. She had managed to stop the flow of hot, bitter tears, although the sleeve of her shirt still sported a damp swath from the wrist to the elbow. Her mind flitted erratically back and forth between her impending doom and the long term consequences of her actions. Would she be imprisoned for striking the Prince, or merely sent back to Simetra in shame? Imagining Master Zorin's disappointment after he had afforded her the opportunity to prove herself made her almost wish for the former. Did this ship even have a brig? Maybe they would burn her or abandon her on an island somewhere.

But far worse than her fear of punishment was the long term consequence; she would never be yu-yan; never. Shi-Yun had been right; she couldn't even behave herself for one month. And Keisuke, who was aware that she was following in his footsteps, would also know she had failed when she never took her place amongst the yu-yan ranks. Tears threatened to reemerge. Would she ever see him again?

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she forced herself to stand still. Her inner turmoil refused to quiet, however. Hating the rising feeling of suffocating panic, Shiori tried desperately to refocus on her emotions of anger; anger at Master Zorin for giving her such an impossible task, anger at Zuko, for being such an uncaring, insensitive jerk.

Unfortunately, her thoughts came full circle back onto herself. How could she have been so stupid? She _knew_ what was at stake; she _knew_ what it would take to accomplish her goal and pass this test and yet she still had failed. It made her sick with despair to think that Shi-Yun had been right all along, that her spirit was just too fiery to be a proper yu-yan.

A tap at the door made her practically jump out of her skin.

So. They had come for her.

Taking another precautionary scrub across her eyes with her sleeves, Shiori turned to face the door, chin held slightly aloft. Perhaps she had failed her test of temperament, but that didn't mean she had to abandon all vestiges of self-respect. Hoping her eyes and face didn't look as miserable as they felt, she focused on the upper part of the doorframe, waiting quietly for her impending punishment.

Another gentle tap, and then the metal door creaked open. A familiar shaved head poked in and Shiori had difficulty suppressing a grimace; especially since his left cheek still sported a bit of a flush. _So, he's come to witness the job himself, has he? Well, I suppose it's what I deserve._ The teen girl was surprised when the Prince entered and shut the door behind him. Where were the soldiers to take her away and lock her up?

Zuko regarded her for the briefest of moments before the sun-kissed eyes focused elsewhere. They stayed like that, the silence stretching awkwardly between them, as the seconds ticked past. Finally Prince Zuko cleared his throat. His eyes never strayed from the wall he faced as he addressed his temporary archer.

"Look, from what I understand of our agreement, you're supposed to obey my orders as I give them. Is that correct?"

Shiori, who suddenly found the entrance to her room to be entrancing, answered softly. "Yes."

"And this is a test of some kind? To see if you're worthy of further training?"

"Yes."

At this point Zuko turned his head to face her, although she remained focused on her door. "Then try to understand, capturing the Avatar is _my_ test. It's the only way to regain my honor, to be able to go home…"

Silence. Shiori's brows were drawn down as she stared at the door. She could feel Zuko's gaze boring into the side of her face. It tickled her peripheral vision; keeping her own eyes forward was becoming a challenge. What did Zuko want from her? She had royally messed up; failed. And, since he seemed to believe that her only goal was usurping her brother's glory, Shiori would have thought he'd be glad to be rid of her. Instead of the expected gloating, however, his tone was almost… conciliatory. She didn't comprehend this at all.

"It seems to me," Zuko continued, his voice persuasively soft, "that we need each other to move on. I still need an archer, one who knows yu-yan ways, one who can help me track down and capture the Avatar, and you, you need to pass this test."

_But I can't pass this test; I already failed. _In misery, Shiori turned to meet Zuko's gaze, hoping he'd understand that Master Zorin would not be as forgiving as the Prince was apparently willing to be.

Zuko gave her a brief smirk. "I see no need to inform your master about your… _indiscretions_, so long as we are successful on Misty Island. That means Zhao does not capture the Avatar; I do. Understand?"

Shiori gave a slow nod. It was taking the reality of her second chance a while to sink in.

"If you're still worried about having to infiltrate Zhao's camp, don't be. All I really need to know is whether or not his men are still there. If they are, the Avatar obviously hasn't been there yet. It's unlikely he'd have any yu-yan at his camp anyways; they'll be scattered throughout the island, lying in wait for their prey. So, having a yu-yan walk into his camp would probably be more suspicious than, say, a regular Fire Nation soldier."

Although Prince Zuko said this more to himself than to her, Shiori felt a liberating amount of relief at his words. Passing her trial of serving Zuko would only gain her another year if Admiral Zhao caught her; but so long as she wasn't forced to expose herself to him, she felt her odds of discovery to be severely reduced.

"I see you're already packed." Zuko's voice held the faintest hint of humor. "Good. We'll arrive at the island in four hours. Here is a map of Misty Island. Study it. The Avatar will most likely arrive from the north or west, but that might not matter. Here is where my uncle says the main breeding grounds for the giant manta ray-bats used to be," Zuko pointed to a red-encircled area on the map. This time, Shiori paid attention. "Once we ascertain whether or not Zhao's troops are still on the island, that is where we'll concentrate our search."

Zuko glanced at the younger teen. Although her eyes still retained their red-rimmed look, no evidence of fresh tears appeared. Grateful for that, at least, the banished boy wondered idly if his uncle would have approved of his approach to the problem. It seemed like a fair solution to him: he overlooked the girl's non-yu-yan-like behavior and in exchange he didn't have to utter the words, "I'm sorry," for his completely off-base accusations in regards to the girl's relationship with her older brother. A fresh start for both of them, so to speak. And most importantly, the playing field against Zhao, although still tilted significantly in the Admiral's favor, was more even than it would have been without the quasi yu-yan's help.

"Do you have anything to say?" he asked. "Anything that might help the mission?"

After thinking a couple of minutes, Shiori answered slowly, her voice slightly raspier than it had been in the rhino pens. "Once fully trained, a yu-yan isn't bound by the rule of silence, but they are far more likely to stay quiet than not. So, if you and your men wear your faceplates… they probably won't mention the fact that Fire Nation soldiers are prowling the island to Admiral Zhao. They'll remain focused on their own mission. The yu-yan are weapons. Right now those weapons are pointed at the Avatar. They won't deviate from that."

Zuko frowned thoughtfully. "No ambition for recognition or personal glory, huh? No wonder Zhao wanted them so badly."

The look Shiori gave the Prince was completely guileless. "The yu-yan are the best archers in the world. Only the very best of the best make it through the training system and achieve their goal. What more need for glory could there be?"

* * *

The forward hold of Zuko's ship was completely dark. The torches extinguished, the steel doors shut and sealed; no light permeated the oppressive black. Curious, Shiori waved her hand in front of her face, unable to see the gesture. Silence also ruled, although not the absolute stillness of which the yu-yan were capable.

Seven fire benders plus Zuko waited with Shiori in the ship's prow. No one spoke, but she could hear them shifting about nervously. Someone was humming softly to himself; another man jangled as he adjusted his gear. Beyond that, only the hum of the engines and the sounds of waves breaking against the hull could be heard.

At General Iroh's suggestion, the komodo-rhinos had been left in their pens. He had pointed out that there was no telling if Admiral Zhao's men, if they were on the island at all, possessed mounts. Plus the myopic beasts were nearly blind at night; no good at all for this kind of mission.

The waves were breaking across the bow with more force now; the ship bucking into the tide. The hull scraped loudly against the bottom, the harsh noise echoing loudly in the hollow metal chamber. Shiori crouched down, preparing for landing. The ship shuddered as the engines were thrown in reverse.

"Now," Zuko ordered, and the front of the ship cracked open as the boarding ramp groaned into position. In comparison to the pitch black they had been waiting in, the night sky seemed to shine with light, even though the moon was waning.

Shiori was ashore even before the ramp had completely descended. She took a quick glance up and down the rock strewn beach before taking off for the woods at a crouching sprint. She scanned the thick vegetation, veering to the left as she spotted a perfect tree. Drawing back her prepared arrow without breaking her stride, Shiori let fly; the white fletching and trailing rope making the missile easy to track.

She slowed her pace only to ease her way into the thick undergrowth. Here progress became harder; there wasn't enough light to see by and not enough time to properly feel her way through. Her shirt and pants became dampened from brushing past thick foliage; her arms scratched by unseen thorns and sharp twigs. Still, she pushed through until she reached the base of her chosen tree.

Standing motionless, she could hear Zuko and his men crossing the beach. Louder still were the metallic sounds of the ship's bow shifting back into place. Shiori found her dangling spider-monkey rope. She gave it a couple of firm tugs before climbing upwards hand over hand, taking care not to touch the thick layer of moss and lichen on the tree's trunk.

Heaving herself up into its sturdy limbs, she chose a nook which enabled her to see the beach and the ground directly beneath the tree. Then she pulled her arrow free and carefully wound up her rope. Settling her back against the trunk, she waited. As Zuko's ship began to slowly withdrawal from the island, the Prince and his men entered the forest, following after Shiori. They made a lot of noise, the young archer noted with a wince, but under the circumstance, that was almost a good thing. Everything was going according to plan.

The fire benders made their way single file, passing the tree in which Shiori was hidden. Errant streams of moonlight penetrated the dense foliage and glinted off their white faceplates, making the protective pieces look even more like skulls than usual.

"Shiori?" one of the smaller figures called out softly.

"Here," she answered. Pressed against the thick trunk the way she was, Shiori doubted that Zuko could see her. He nodded to acknowledge her presence and then moved on. The girl settled back to wait, listening as the Prince and his fire benders moved farther and farther away. The sounds of the forest slowly returned as the disturbing humans distanced themselves from the beach.

Shiori sat and listened as she scanned the beach by quarters, knowing that her peripheral vision would be much better at picking up movement at night than her forward sight. Although the crashing waves provided serious competition, the chorus of life became the dominant sound. She recognized a few of the species, but most were alien to her. Of course, that mattered not; the point was that she could hear them. They served as her rear sentries; even the stealthiest of humans would be unable to slip through the forest without silencing the smaller creatures' calls.

Still, Shiori expected them to come to the beach, if they came at all. She sat and waited, shifting her weight every now and then to keep her muscles from aching. A heavy mist was settling on her; she could feel it weighing down her hair and leeching through her already damp clothes faster than her body's heat could compensate for it. Goosebumps rose on her skin as a cool breeze blew in off the ocean. Her nose, responding to the dampness, began to run. Frowning, she resisted the urge to sniffle; instead wiping it with the edge of her sleeve. She was glad that her quiver of arrows was protected by a flap of oilskin.

Despite her discomfort, the fourteen year old kept her eyes forward, steadfastly maintaining her vigil. She was key to the plan; the honor of being the one assigned this crucial role had not escaped her. This mission on Misty Island was her one and only chance to pass her temperance test and move on with her yu-yan training. After this, she would be returned to Master Zorin and General Iroh would give his report, sealing her fate. That was all the motivation she required to stay alert.

The plan was an iffy one, totally dependant on there being yu-yan in the general vicinity. If they were around, they would be attracted to the beach by the not so subtle sounds of Zuko's ship. Although fallible, this test had the potential of easily answering the question of whether or not Zhao's commandeered archers were here. Meanwhile, Prince Zuko and his fire benders would be splitting into teams, heading in different directions before making camp for the night. Come dawn they would all be fully engaged in the search for the Avatar.

Shiori did not have to wait nearly so long, however, for her reconnaissance to pay off. Her peripheral vision caught some motion on the beach and she immediately refocused her eyes. Darting wraithlike through the mist-shrouded moonlight, three shadowy forms made their way to the landing site. They crouched; becoming part of the rocky beach for a moment, then moved towards the tree line.

With obvious ease they tracked the path of Zuko and his men, slipping out of Shiori's sight as they entered the forest. She stiffened in her perch as the chorus of insects suddenly fell silent. Tracking in the dense vegetation without the aid of light would be nearly impossible, but the yu-yan were not known as the best of the best for nothing.

She heard them not, but sensed their presence below her. The forest around her was unnaturally hushed, as if it too had joined her in holding its breath. Shiori stared straight out, resisting the oh-so tempting urge to peer downward. Some people possessed the knack of knowing when the eyes of another rested upon them; she could not take that risk.

They moved on slowly, following the path Zuko and his men had carelessly blazed. Shiori, still undetected, remained motionless in her tree. She waited until the insects resumed their songs and then she lingered in place for longer still. Paranoia ate at her. What if they knew she was up there? What if someone was watching even now?

A chill that had nothing to do with the pervasive mist crept up and down her spine. She shook it off with an effort.

Finally she moved, tying a loop into the end of her spider-monkey rope and lowering herself out of the tree. Reaching the ground without incident, she coiled up her rope. Then, stooping, she felt around on the damp ground until she came up with three rocks. Stacking one on top the other, she then placed one to the side facing her former perch. One of Zuko's best trackers was supposed to return here at dawn and she did not trust him to find her specific tree without aid.

Lastly she took out an arrow. Using her own strength, she stabbed the metal head into the bark, wiggling it free only to turn the arrow over ninety degrees and repeat the process, creating a small, distinctive 'X'. It was a yu-yan sign, invisible to those who did not know where to look. Fortunately, Shiori had already shown the man what to scan for and they had agreed upon what it would mean. One arrow head mark indicated no yu-yan had crossed her path; the crosshatch shape she had just made would let Zuko know about their presence.

The girl grimaced slightly. The yu-yan were a secretive organization; so secretive that those students who completed all five years of training and yet failed the final exam had their dominant hands physically altered to prevent them from teaching yu-yan techniques to outsiders. Shiori had skipped a year; her training was as of yet incomplete, with the more advanced secrets still a mystery to her, so she hoped that this would not apply to her should she fail here. After dedicating so much time to mastering her craft, the concept of life without archery was abhorrent to her.

Despite Prince Zuko's insistence on the necessity of the information, she very much doubted Master Zorin would be pleased to know she had divulged a yu-yan trail sign to a simple soldier. Letting out a sigh, she slipped her arrow back into her quiver. The yu-yan were here; that meant that she was about to attempt to thwart her elder brethren from their given task; defying her future commander in order to serve her current, temporary, one. The arrow mark trail sign was the least of her worries.

With a shake of her head, she glided deeper into the forest.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen:**

A trickle of sweat coursed down her spine and Shiori shifted her shoulder blades with discomfort. She was in a valley, far beneath the canopy where the cooling sea breeze played. The languid air was laden with moisture; it lay thick and heavy in her lungs with every breath. It was almost enough to make her wish for the cool, nighttime mists. Or a set of gills.

_The yu-yan do not complain, _Shiori reminded herself sternly. She squinted upwards through the lattice work of greenery, trying to gage the hours of daylight remaining. It was about midday, judging by the sun; the peak of heat had yet to hit. Shrugging her shoulders slightly, the fourteen year old decided it was time for a break. She snagged a nearby vine and shimmied into the relatively safety of a tree. There she pulled off her quiver and rested her bow on her lap as her back was cooled by the thick, mossy trunk.

She scanned her surroundings out of habit, the thick vegetation limiting her view. Misty Island was a lush paradise; plants seemed to grow everywhere, climbing on top of one another to reach the light. In most places the trees were so intertwined that there was no need for one's feet to touch the ground. Shiori had never imagined so many shades of green existed; from the blue-green of the moss that covered many of the rocks on the forest floor to the bright yellowish green flowers adorning the tallest trees, this world was painted in a rich palette of color.

The amount of wildlife was also astounding. Flocks of brightly colored reptile-parrots made their presence known with raucous conversations. Pygmy leopard-monkeys and their far fiercer cousins, the purple-maned gorillas made their homes amongst the trees and on the forest floor. On the ground she had spotted the tracks of a sabertooth lion-moose and those of a herd of komodo deer. An incident with a porcupine-boar made her leery of remaining on the ground too long.

Countless insects large and small swarmed in droves about the forest. Shiori had ceased attempting to sleep at night after something very large and with far too many legs had crawled over one of her arms. Now she traveled at night looking for tell-tale campfires and took catnaps during the heat of the day.

In a way, she loved it here. A far cry from the confines of Zuko's ship or even Simetra Island, this place allowed her to use every inch of her body and her training to its fullest potential. The endless days of calisthenics, obstacle courses and runs through the woods were no longer the boring training exercises that she _had_ to do; now she could appreciate the skills each task had given her.

Truly, this was a place where she could _be_ yu-yan, living every aspect of the life that entailed. Sadly, if the fabled Avatar did not make an appearance soon, she feared this might be her first and last outing as such.

Shiori idly scratched at one of the many insect bites that adorned her hand. Three days of hunting and not an air bender to be found; it was borderline depressing. She wondered how Prince Zuko was faring. He and his men had split into three groups upon arrival. The area of the manta ray-bats' breeding grounds was quite large; the plan was for one group to head west, one to search the eastern edge and for Prince Zuko's team to go straight up the middle.

Shiori, although only fourteen, was given the daunting task of making her way to the far northern edge of the territory as fast as she was able, to search for the Avatar there. She had been pleased by the challenge. Easily outdistancing her soldier counterparts the first night, Shiori had not seen any sign of human life since, even though she kept a constant eye out for her elder brethren.

They were here somewhere, full-fledged yu-yan, the best archers in the world. Just the thought made her smile.

The teen closed her eyes, surrendering to the warmth of the day. Her stomach gurgled, reminding her that she'd have to do some hunting later on. Unlike Zuko's fire benders, Shiori traveled light, carrying only her archery equipment, two spark rocks, a small canteen and a few medicinal supplies. In a place this rich with food, that was all she required. Gradually she nodded off, senses tuned to the thrum of life around her.

* * *

Shiori woke up abruptly, knowing without a doubt that something was off in the environment around her. She remained still, scanning the area, listening for any out of place noises. The forest was unusually quiet. Then she heard it, a deep, low rumbling sound, punctuated by crashing noises, coming from somewhere off to her left…

Shiori frowned, standing up and shedding her eyes as she squinted in that direction. She saw nothing; but a flock of reptile-parrots took wing from an area not too far away. It seemed worth investigating, at any rate. Slipping her quiver and bow back on, the young trainee slid down a thick vine to the ground. She paused, orienting herself, and then headed out.

In this overgrown area of the island, speed took a back seat to caution out of necessity. The forest floor was a tangled mess of plant life; moss and moisture made rocks treacherous footing and thick tree roots sought to trip up the unwary traveler. Shiori found an animal trail headed in the direction she wished to go and made her way towards the disturbance as fast as she was able.

The low, rumbling groan came again, causing Shiori to speed up slightly. She leapt nimbly over one of the many small streams that criss-crossed the forest floor, trickling towards the ocean from the top of the dormant volcano range that made up the sheltering northern ridge of the island. The vegetation became sparser, allowing Shiori to speed up.

The groaning ceased, but the crashing noises intensified. Having learned the wisdom of caution on Simetra, where instructors habitually put arrows through the clothing of careless students, Shiori took to the trees as she neared the source of the disturbance. Creeping through the canopy, she soon had a bird's eye view of something unexpected.

A large crocodile-python was tearing apart a carcass of some unfortunate beast; death-rolling to tear off chunks of meat and then distending its jaw to swallow the pieces whole. It was fascinating and sickening all at once. Oddly enough, it appeared as if the dead beast had been deceased for a while, or else the crocodile-python was a faster eater than it was currently demonstrating, which made her wonder how the thing had managed to utter that rumbling groan for so long. Shiori watched nature in action for a bit, and then shook her head with a sigh.

Wiping the sweat streaming down her face with the back of her hand, the girl turned away from the gruesome spectacle. All that expended energy for nothing; what a disappointment. She made her way back to the stream, pausing to wash the evidence of her exertion off of her face. Taking off her omnipresent red headband, she scrubbed it against a rock before refastening it about her brow. She remained squatting by the water's edge, watching the light dance off its fast moving surface.

'Capture the Avatar.' It seemed like such a nice, specific goal and yet she found the quest to be nebulous at best_. If_ the Avatar came_, if_ he arrived in her designated hunting zone, _if_ she was not beaten to the prize by her fully-trained elders or Zuko's men…

And worst of all, time was running out. Master Zorin had lent her to Prince Zuko for a month; General Iroh had already dispatched a messenger hawk arranging the day and location of her transfer back. Avatar or no Avatar, she and Prince Zuko had to depart Misty Island in four more days.

_Which is why I should not waste any more time, _Shiori thought firmly, rising from her crouched position. Thus far her search had been fruitless, but maybe if she headed farther north, up the mountains a little, maybe get high enough to spot the Avatar's flying bison or smoke from a campfire or _something _to indicate the air bender's presence, then maybe she'd make her deadline. It was as good of a plan as any.

Shiori rubbed her wet hands dry on her pants and started to follow the stream against its flow, wading in the shallow water to avoid the crowd of vegetation that grew on its banks. Hunger pangs hit her again; Shiori had been surviving on a handful of berries here, a raw egg there, and nibbles on the chunk of hard tack bread that Chef Lee had pressed into her hand before her departure. Protein, she knew, was vital, but it took time to hunt, dress and cook a meal. Before she had been so impatient just to get here and then to start her quest that the idea of wasting time on anything other had been unthinkable.

Now that a few days had passed, though, a well cooked meal was moving up on her list of priorities. It was a rookie's mistake, she knew, to value anything above survival, even if that 'anything' was her entire future.

Wading upstream, Shiori kept an arrow loosely nocked, keeping an eye out for any unwary, thirsty beasts. A slight rustle to her left was her only warning. Something small and furry jumped out of a tree and landed on her shoulder. Sharp claws easily pierced through her clothes and into the tender flesh below, the unexpected weight throwing her off balance. The instant pain made it difficult to think; she spun in a circle, soaking her pants with her frantic splashing, then used her arrow to strike at the creature.

It leapt nimbly aside, landing vertically on a nearby tree trunk. Orange-brown in color and covered in striking black stripes, the tiger-squirrel growled at her, large poofy tail twitching in irritation. Shiori's lips pulled back in imitation, her arrow already drawn back to her cheek. The little predator gave up its posturing; scurrying to the opposite side of the tree it began to climb upwards. The girl tried to out circle the beast, but it was much too quick. So she stood quietly in the creek bed, patiently waiting.

Sure enough, once it had reached an acceptable height, the little imp couldn't resist stalking out on a tree branch to growl at her one last time. Shiori almost felt guilty about killing it, but she was hungry and her shot was clean. The tiger-squirrel fell from its perch, dead before it hit the ground.

As she collected her soon to be meal, she heard another rustle, and another. Glancing around her, she saw flashes of orange and black through the greenery. Tucking her catch into her shirt, the archer quickly drew another arrow. She backed into the waterway. The sound of movement through the canopy seemed to come from all sides.

Another tiger-squirrel, this one much larger, stalked boldly out from behind a tree, poofy tail jerking in time with each low-pitched growl. Shiori realized her mistake as soon as she saw the size of the beast. The one she had killed had obviously been a yearling, still learning how to hunt and still under its mother's protection. That explained why it had pounced on her, a being far too large for it to take down: inexperience. 'Mom', on the other hand, had fangs that protruded well beyond the confines of her mouth, making her an actual threat.

Other flashes of color meant that the one she had slain hadn't been an only child. Shiori kept her arrow trained on the predator's throat. "Sorry," she breathed out while backing slowly away, "but I have to eat too."

The tiger-squirrel began to crouch; Shiori adjusted her aim, purposefully just nicking the enraged predator's front leg. Snarling, the beast sprang ten feet into the air, landing on a branch. Without pause it leapt from branch to branch with an agility and grace that made the young yu-yan jealous. Two cubs followed after their mother's retreat.

Shiori slowly lowered her bow, letting out a sigh of air at the same time. Gradually she came back to herself, becoming distinctly aware that she had a furry, bloody corpse down the front of her shirt. Insects, already attracted by the blood, swarmed around her head. Removing both her dinner and her shirt, Shiori washed the red, sticky fluid off in the stream. The cool water felt good against her skin and soothed the claw marks on her shoulder, although she knew she would regret washing the shirt if it did not dry before nightfall.

After inspecting her shoulder and finding the wounds irritating but not worthy of treatment, Shiori wrung out and replaced her shirt, and gathered up her prey and the arrow. The wet archer continued upstream, this time keeping an eye out for a clearing. The girl intended to cook her meal well before dusk, when the glow of a fire might attract unwanted attention.

Not long later she found what she was looking for: a large, flat spit of eroded river rocks protruding from one of the banks. The stream was broader here, but shallow; the banks far exceeding the current volume. Shiori made her fire pit right down on the spit. Although still daylight out, her cautious nature applauded the fact that the stream's banks would help hide her fire from view.

Finding dry tinder in the eternally damp forest was easier said than done; Shiori had time to mentally lament her lack of fire bending abilities more than once before her spark rocks finally caught. While her cooking fire slowly grew in size, she gutted and skinned her catch. The amount of meat was about comparable to that of a full grown skunk-rabbit, and without the stink.

Before long she was consuming her first real meal in days. The meat was a bit tough, and she strongly suspected its flavor was enhanced by her hunger, but Shiori's stomach was happy to see it. She ate slowly, allowing the heat of the fire to dry her clothes somewhat. She had unwittingly relaxed to an unimaginable degree, for the boy's voice caught her completely off guard, so much so that she froze in shock for a second or two.

"I'm telling you, Katara, I smell meat. Mmm, juicy, succulent, _cooking_ meat. And it's coming from this direction. My nose is never wrong."

"And I'm telling you that you're crazy. No one is out here; and besides, we're supposed to wait for Aang back at camp. What if he comes back and we're gone?"

"You worry too much. And Aang won't care; he doesn't even eat meat."

The archer shook herself. People, here? She hastily began kicking dirt and rocks over her small fire, silently cursing the noise. Shoving the rest of her tiger-squirrel haunch into her mouth, she wiped the greese off on her pants and went for the nearest suitable tree. Up she climbed, orienting her body to the upwind side of the trunk. She couldn't see the others yet, but judging by the snaps and rustles of disturbed foliage, they wouldn't be out of view for long. A downward glance confirmed her worst fears; the soft river bank soil was covered in her tracks; it would take a blind man to miss it.

She prepared an arrow, not wasting energy to draw it back but leaving it nocked just the same. Who could this be? Certainly not the yu-yan; her fellow archers would never be so noisy. Admiral Zhao's soldiers, perhaps? But they sounded so young…

"Well, Sokka? Where is it?"

"I can't smell it anymore, but I swear it was coming from around here somewhere."

"Why can't you just admit that you were wrong and that this little adventure has been a waste of time?"

"Because I'm not wrong. I _know_ I smelled cooking meat. And don't talk to me about wasting time; this whole side trip is a huge waste of time. Aang hears one little rumor about some sort of flying whatsit and off we go. What happened to needing to get to the North Pole as soon as possible? What happened to no more distractions?" The boy's exasperated voice rose in pitch dramatically, causing Shiori to drop his age to somewhere younger than Zuko in the teenage spectrum.

She could see them now, flashes of blue amongst the green. Their progress had slowed as their conversation intensified. A wellspring of excitement built in the teenaged girl. These were the Avatar's companions; they had to be! What luck! She silently gave thanks to every ancestor and spirit she could think of, including to the very young tiger-squirrel whose inexperience had led to this fortuitous turn of events.

The two Water Tribe teens, brother and sister if she recalled correctly, were standing semi-hidden by a clump of shrubby-looking trees. Shiori frowned, thinking quickly. Prince Zuko had given her specific orders _not_ to kill the Avatar, but he had been a little vague on his intentions towards these two. She hesitated, and then swiftly switched her arrow from a steel-tipped wedge to a blunted tip. She saw no point in killing if it wasn't necessary, and without clear instructions it was always better to err on the side of caution.

The girl was a water bender; incapacitating her would be crucial, especially this close to a stream. Shiori would take her out first and then her brother. She could see the girl's hands, darker toned than her own pale flesh, as she gestured. But her head remained annoyingly obscured by a tree branch. Shiori eased away from her sheltering trunk, trying to get a better angle without revealing her location. She drew back her arrow. The siblings blithely continued talking.

"Sokka, don't you miss home? Sitting around the communal fire eating stewed sea prunes and listening to Gran-Gran's stories?"

"Mmm, seal blubber jerky," the boy replied.

The girl sighed. "Yes, that too. The point is, we miss home and we've only been gone a little while. We know it will still be there when we get back. Aang can never go home again. His whole culture is gone. If searching for a giant manta ray-bat makes him feel better, what harm is there in letting him have a day or two to look? Besides, we needed supplies and this place is full of food. Even if it doesn't come pre-cooked."

_Move your head, move your head, _Shiori mentally urged the water bender as the boy scratched his partially shaved scalp. She had a clear shot on him, but didn't want to alert the girl by dropping him first.

_Patience. Your chance will come. Be patient and calm. _She forced down the excited part of her that wanted this to be over and done with as soon as possible, reaching inside for the calm, still center of her being; the place from whence all perfect shots came. Taking out these two before they reached their camp would give her an edge when it came to the Avatar, an edge she would most certainly need when dealing with the powerful air bender. But she didn't have to do it right this second. The right moment would present itself; it always did. Repeating the mistakes that had nearly cost her dearly during the fourth year exam would prove that she was not worthy of continuing her training.

Her back began to twinge, protesting the prolonged tension. Shiori ignored it. If the girl would only move a little to her left, she'd have her shot.

A high-pitched keen served as her only notice. A flash of movement; her bowstring was severed near the top, the sudden released tension caused her recurve bow to jerk wildly in her hand, smacking into the tree's foliage and nearly escaping her hand. The arrow fell to the ground, rustling and clattering against the branches as it went.

The severed string struck her in the face, smarting sharply; she gasped in pain as her barely missed eye started streaming water. Only the fact that she had had an arrow drawn saved her hand; it flew back and down while the string snapped forward.

"Hey, did you hear something?" the boy asked, but it was not his voice that caused Shiori to freeze in place. It was the arrow shaft protruding from her tree's trunk, just inches from her head. Still vibrating from impact, the blood-red fletching seemed to shout its sender's warning.

_'Say nothing. Do nothing. Or you'll be next.'_


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen:**

The blue-clad boy was backtracking, despite his sister's protests. If he came much closer, he'd discover the creek bed and her hastily covered cooking fire. But Shiori could do nothing. She remained frozen in her tree branch perch. She dared not even move her eyes to the right, from whence the red-fletched arrow had originated.

Her cheek throbbed in agony from where the bowstring had whipped it; tears still flowed freely from her affected eye. The yu-yan did not miss; the shot had been a warning. She comforted herself with this thought, even as her heart thumped loudly in her ears.

A loud snap jangled against her already raw nerves. The Water Tribe boy struggled through a dense patch of shrubbery, moving into full view; meaning that he could easily spot her if he chose to look up. She kept her eyes fixated on a point above his head, hoping against hope that, like most people, his gaze naturally oriented downward.

"Oh, Sokka, just come on," the girl urged.

The boy grumbled. He has his club and a weird elbow-shaped weapon drawn; Prince Zuko had warned her about it. Currently weaponless, Shiori kept completely motionless and continued to monitor him without staring directly at him. Judging from the way the Water Tribers had been moving through the forest, she could probably out run them if worst came to worst. If she put a little distance between them, she could restring her bow.

But would they give chase if she was spotted or would they run away and take the Avatar with them? And would the unseen yu-yan even allow her to run? Shiori didn't know. Sweat that had nothing to do with the humidity trickled down her face.

The boy scanned the area slowly. Shiori held her breath. Between her red headband and unpainted face, it would be a miracle if he failed to spot her. A chittering blue-striped chipmunk scurried across the ground, causing the boy to start. Muttering to himself about how he never _asked_ for hot forests or weird creature quests, he sheathed his weapons and began to make his way after his sister.

Shiori breathed freely once again. She very, very slowly relaxed from her frozen position. Once the boy and girl were out of view, she turned her head by fractions to scrutinize the area where she suspected the arrow had been shot from.

Nothing.

Either the other archer had already moved on, or he or she was employing their greater experience to hide. Shiori saw no reason for the latter; she was obviously outclassed and currently disarmed. If her unseen brethren had been deployed to hunt the Avatar, then that was where his focus would remain. Still, she remained relatively motionless a few moments longer before pulling out the offensive arrow.

It had a razor sharp 'v' head on it, designed specifically for severing rope. It looked undamaged so Shiori stored it in her own quiver, the red fletching standing out against the sea of white. Her bow warranted a closer inspection; having the tension suddenly released like that, especially since it had been bearing the extra load of being drawn, could have potentially cracked the composite device. Thankfully it was undamaged.

Shiori took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As a survivor of over three full years of training on Simetra, she was no stranger to having arrows fired at her. But always before, she had known that the archer intended to miss. This time… this time she was not so sure. She took a small comfort in the fact that her fellow hunter had chosen an arrow specifically designed to sever rope instead of a traditional arrowhead. She translated that to mean that she had never been a target. The warning, however, was clear.

Unfortunately, her mission was also clear and unchanged. Zuko had given specific parameters to his definition of success, one being that Admiral Zhao did _not_ capture the Avatar. Now that she knew that there were yu-yan in the same vicinity as the air bender, Shiori could not remain motionless in a tree. Her life expectancy might be longer if she did nothing, but her chances of passing this test dropped to zero. That was an unbearable thought to the determined girl.

Of all people, the active duty yu-yan should understand that orders, once given, must be followed. Wasn't that the very point of this excursion, to prove to Headmaster Zorin that she had the spirit of a yu-yan, that she could obey orders instantly and without question? Give up now and all of her training would be for naught.

With renewed conviction fortifying her resolve, Shiori slowly climbed out of her tree. When no arrows appeared, she gave a sigh of relief. Her cheek throbbed anew; pain once dulled by adrenaline now made itself known. She ignored it; her priority was rearming herself. She carried two extra bowstrings, so she restrung her weapon and then inspected it once more. She drew and fired an imaginary arrow and checked it again. Satisfied, she slipped the bow back over her shoulder and slid down the creek bank.

The cool water felt good on her sweaty and throbbing face. Her cheek was definitely going to sport a mark. Shiori gave renewed thanks that her hand had not taken the brunt of the bowstring's strike; the last thing she needed was stiff and bruised fingers impeding her. The teen rose, wiping the drips of water from her face. Rolling her shoulders to relieve the tension in her back, Shiori realized that part of her still expected another red-fletched arrow to make an appearance. It was a silly notion; she was just a little, out-of-place yu-yan trainee. With the Avatar in the area, no self-respecting yu-yan would waste time on her.

She stared in the direction the Water Tribe siblings had taken, her lips pursed in thought. Following directly after them would be suicide; besides, Shiori very much doubted that the two would actually reach their destination. Her senior opponent would take them out well before their strengths, such as they were, could be combined with the Avatar's awesome might.

They couldn't have come too far, the girl mused, especially if it was the smell of cooking meat that had attracted them. She climbed out of the creek bed and stood with her back to the prevailing breeze. Then she angled her body to it. If she wanted to avoid further complications with her better trained adversary, she was going to have to loop out and around and then double back, hopefully finding and arriving at the Avatar's campsite in time to either apprehend the boy herself or at least prevent his capture by the other. It was a ridiculous plan, but Shiori didn't have time to formulate a better one.

Her mind made up, she set off through the forest, no longer traveling carefully but jogging in a mile-eating lope that would see her to her destination without causing exhaustion.

* * *

The Avatar's massive six-legged beast was truly a sight to behold. Covered with shaggy white fur, it grazed the long grass in the clearing like an oversized hippopotamus-cow. Its saddle and massive size belied the notion that it could be used as a food source though.

Shiori knew better than to underestimate its abilities. Through one of her temporary commander's briefings, she knew the beast was intelligent, loyal and strong. Furthermore, it was an air bender, capable of producing powerful blasts of air and of flight. Zuko seemed to hate the bison and its ability to spirit away the Avatar from any land based danger.

Shiori carefully kept to the downwind side of the Avatar's campsite. Lying flat on her stomach, she was hidden amongst the bushes on the edge of the clearing. She scanned the area, bow and arrow at her side. Of the blue-clad Water Tribe siblings, there was no sign. Shiori imagined their lifeless bodies were out in the forest somewhere, their unseen stalker having eliminated their threat long before they could reach the clearing. Unless, of course, Admiral Zhao had ordered them taken alive. Regardless, she very much doubted that they would be an issue.

She took comfort from the fact that the Avatar's bison seemed calm and undisturbed. Unless her fellow hunter had been very lucky and had somehow run into the boy before he returned here, she took the beast's demeanor as an indication that the air bender had yet to be captured. Which meant that she still had a chance.

Eyes narrowed, the fourteen year old examined the opposite edge of the small field. There, somewhere, another archer lay in ambush. Perhaps more than one. Either way, the more she thought about it, the more she came to realize that she had no chance of capturing the Avatar and then escaping with him. And so her only option was to ensure that Admiral Zhao's men failed to apprehend the air bender too.

Wiggling backwards on her belly, Shiori gained greater cover. Once thoroughly shielded from the clearing, she rose from belly to knees and then shifted her weight to her feet. An idea formed; it was crazy, but it might work. She pulled two specially prepared arrows out of her quiver and stuck those head first into the dirt. Then she freed her spark rocks.

And just in time. The grazing bison gave a deep, reverberating rumble, its shaggy horned head rising to look at the sky. Shiori struck one spark rock against the other, lighting both fuses.

"Appa!" a cheerful, childish voice called from above.

_The Avatar really is just a kid, _Shiori had time to think, and then action took precedence. Before the monk could fly into view, one flare arrow soared into the air, as high as she could launch it. The other was planted next to one of the bison's six feet. They went off almost simultaneously. A huge red flash lit the sky, followed nearly instantly by a thunderous crack. The second explosion sent the bison into a panic; an unexpected, extremely powerful blast of air knocked Shiori off her feet and sucked the breath from her lungs. With a deafening roar, the beast, fur aflame, disappeared into the sky.

"Appa!" the boy's voice called again. And then they were gone, with only the flattened grassland as evidence of their presence.

The sky still glowed red from her flare. Shiori had been given them so she could signal if she had been lucky enough to nab the Avatar. The fire benders, of course, needed no such tools.

Dazed, she slowly rose from the ground, shakily using a tree as an aide. Multiple arrows pinned her sleeve to the wood, two more planted themselves into her shoes. She froze. It was pointless to struggle; the flattened grass of the clearing and leaf-stripped bushes provided no cover. Slowly she raised her free hand in surrender.

There were at least two of them, a small portion of her brain noted; the arrows had come from two different trajectories. The rest of her mind fought against her rising fear, struggling to maintain control as she braced herself for the potential death strike. She could hear Shi-Yun's voice impartially telling his students where to aim if one wanted a quick death on a human and where an arrow would only injure.

A death by yu-yan arrow would be a quick one at least; she had no fear of them missing her vitals. But Shiori didn't want to die at all. Her mind cast about for an escape in desperation. Any movement she made would have to be sudden and unexpected. That meant somehow freeing both her arm and her feet simultaneously. It was impossible and she knew it.

A slight rustling of leaves announced the presence of someone behind her. She turned her head slowly, not wanting to further antagonize the archers. Despite the gravity of her situation, the sight of a full-fledged yu-yan made her lips curl up slightly. After nearly a month away from Simetra, her eyes hungrily ate up the image of the red-brown hawk's design painted on his face and the black headband adorning his brow.

He was tall, with no extra flesh to encumber his graceful movements. His bow laid slung over a shoulder, reinforcing Shiori's belief that another, unseen archer had her covered. With the paint surrounding his eyes, Shiori could not gage his level of irritation at her. Impassivity at its best, his face gave her no clues. Her own partial smile faded away under his scrutiny.

She was only fourteen, a trainee, alone on an island and far from any who would vouch for her. She had achieved her goal of scaring away the Avatar without giving full consideration to the consequences of said action. Still, Shiori tilted her chin up, refusing to cower before the taller man. The silence between them dragged on; the man's dark brown eyes explored every inch of her being, putting her of mind of Shi-Yun's penetrating gaze.

No, that was not quite correct, Shiori realized. The Masters on Simetra could make a student feel naked and vulnerable with just a glance; this overly long stare was simply an attempt to cow her. The man, fully trained as he might be, dropped a few notches in her estimation. Defiantly, she raised an eyebrow at him. She had every right to be here, after all; her assigned task had been handed out by Headmaster Zorin himself.

The yu-yan frowned. He relieved her bow from the hand of her pinned arm and took her quiver away. Then he pursed his lips and gave a complex bird call.

Another responded. From across the flattened clearing he came, shorter and perhaps very slightly plumper than his fellow archer. His stride had an almost imperceptible limp to it and he picked his path with care. As he drew closer, Shiori could see that his light tan pants were torn and bloody near the knee and that his raven black hair appeared to be as windswept as her own mouse-brown locks.

He gave his tall companion a nod, his gaze flashing over the pinned trainee briefly before meeting her eyes. "You're a long way from home," he commented.

The spoken words carried a slight accent; marking the archer as a former Colonial. Shiori shrugged, seeing no need to respond to the obvious. She fought the urge to attempt to pull her arm free; against the two of them she had no chance, but the idea of being helpless rankle her.

"Do you have a name?" the more amiable man asked.

"Of course. Don't we all?" The unwise response, fueled by Shiori's frustration at the situation, escaped before she could stop it.

Her questioner glanced over her head to his partner; something must have passed between them because it was the taller man who spoke next. "What are you doing here?"

The girl hesitated only a second before answering. "Headmaster Zorin sent me."

It was a partial truth at best, but the best answer she could conceive of in hopes of being set free. Another exchanged look over her head; that was getting annoying, and the shorter one resumed.

"Are you alone?"

Shiori's mouth parted, then closed, her brows furrowing down as she sought an answer that did not betray Prince Zuko and the others. When none presented itself, she repeated what she hoped would be her passport to freedom. "Headmaster Zorin sent me."

The shorter man snorted, his dark brown eyes had lost any semblance of kindness, hardening to the flint-like stare of a true yu-yan. Swallowing hard, Shiori could feel the muscles between her shoulder blades tighten; the presence of the tall, slim archer behind her suddenly became a hundred times more disturbing than before.

Surely she would not be shot in the back and left to die while pinned to a tree, right? But her brain already knew the answer to that question. For a yu-yan, the honor came from completing the assigned task. They weren't benders or swordsmen; archers took whatever shots availed themselves, including shots to the back. It wasn't considered dishonorable; it was just another step in the process of accomplishing a goal.

"No," the native Fire Nation archer answered an unspoken question from his partner. "We will take her back to camp with the others. Perhaps someone there will know what is going on."

"Perhaps," the other's tone carried a hint of menace. "But I personally hope she attempts to run for it. A trainee should know her place and that place is Simetra, not here ruining her brethren's chances for success."

"I was not taught to make excuses for my failures." The rebuff, although deadpanned, was enough to silence the former Colonial. The taller archer moved around to the front of his captive. "Attempting to escape would be foolish," he informed the trapped girl, then he nodded towards her arm.

Pulling the arrows free was difficult work, but Shiori managed. Once her mangled sleeve came loose, she stooped to pull out the arrows pinning her shoes. She handed the red-fletched arrows back to the brown-haired man, deferring to him over his darker haired partner partially out of spite, partially because he exuded an aura of authority the other lacked. The former Colonial frowned, but said nothing.

In short order her hands were bound in front of her by the same strong, thin rope all yu-yan carried; she knew better than to struggle. They marched her across the flattened field and back into the forest. The pace was slow, due to the one archer's limp and Shiori no longer being able to properly balance herself. About one hundred yards in they came across the Water Tribe siblings, bound hand and foot and gagged and blindfolded to boot. The brother, who had obviously been attempting to inchworm himself away, was stuck half in and half out of a briar bush, his posterior up in the air.

"Told you we should have tied them to a tree," the shorter man grumped as he liberated the boy from his predicament. Blindfolds and ankle binding were removed; the two siblings blinked at Shiori in confusion. The trainee ignored them. Although all three teens were now prisoners of Admiral Zhao's yu-yan, the Water Tribers were allies of the Avatar while Shiori remained dedicated to his capture. Besides, she was hoping to be more of a temporary detainee than a true captive.

The other two would no doubt be used as bait for the errant Avatar, in a location the yu-yan choose, one advantageous to an ambush by archers. And since her own personal success depended on Zhao's troops' failure, Shiori was suddenly a tiny bit thankful to be in the position she was in.

The yu-yan leashed the three together using short lengths of rope, with Shiori in the lead. As they turned southward, heading deeper into the former breeding grounds of the giant manta ray-bats, the young archer could only hope that her luck would soon take a turn for the better.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen:**

Shiori stared at the tents, Fire Army issue, in bemusement. Yu-yan trainees were never allowed such luxuries; she had assumed that would be the way of things her entire term of service. Four tents that held two people apiece made up the encampment, but only one yu-yan, arm wrapped and held in place by a sling, greeted them.

His headband was grey, marking him as an apprentice in his final year of training. "Masters," he acknowledged the elders with an inclined head. "I see your hunt was successful, although it appears you snagged an unanticipated prey." He regarded Shiori with open curiosity.

"Success is the accomplishment of the assigned task; anything less than that is failure," the taller archer intoned serenely.

"Yes, Master Kozu."

"We would have had the Avatar if this brat had not interfered." The Colonial jerked on Shiori's tether, forcing her to take a step forward in order to avoid being pulled off her feet. He snorted at the dirty look she shot him. "Eh, glare all you want, little one. Before this day is through that will most likely be the least of the indignities you'll suffer."

"Do not threaten her, Hao-li; it is not your place," Kozu instructed. He untied the Water Tribe siblings from the out of place trainee and handed them over to his partner. "Affix them to a tree somewhere and make sure the girl is kept well away from water."

"Really?" came the deadpanned response. The blue-clad teens were led away, the gags muffling their protests.

The taller archer turned back to the apprentice. "Do you know her, Chun? She would have been a year behind you on Simetra."

The teen studied Shiori before shaking his head. "No, which is odd. I though I was familiar with most of the ones that passed the fourth year test." The wounded boy cocked his head to the side, and then his whole face brightened. "That's right… I had almost forgotten. I heard a third year passed her test with such high scores that Master Zorin allowed her to take the fourth year exam as well. I overheard Master Shi-Yun grumbling about it when I left. Her name was Cecily or something."

"Shiori," the girl corrected with a frown.

Kozu focused his attention back on her. "Your headband does not match your years."

"Master Zorin gave it to me when I left Simetra. It was my reward for accepting this test."

"What kind of test?"

Shiori pressed her lips together. She knew she was in trouble, but did not feel like admitting her inadequacies out loud.

"Skipping a year is odd enough; but why would Master Zorin send her out into the world? I thought no trainee left the island without passing the final exam."

Kozu snorted. "I suspect some high ranking officer or Fire Nation noble is attempting to snag some Avatar glory for his own. Such activities are beneath the yu-yan." He gave Shiori a stern look as he spoke and this time she did avert her gaze. It wasn't her fault that she had gotten stuck between Prince Zuko and Admiral Zhao per se, but now that she was face to face with the people she would hopefully one day serve with, she felt awfully guilty about scaring off the air bender.

Kozu didn't question her further. He retied her ankles together and double-checked the bindings on her wrists. Then she was deposited next to the fire pit in the center of the camp, with the injured Chun as her guard. Her bow and quiver were put down a distance away, grouped together with the Water Tribe boy's elbow-shaped weapon and club and the girl's water pouch.

Kozu and Hao-li were having a quiet conference on the far side of the camp. To her right she could see the blue-clad siblings struggling against their bonds. Chun poked at the banked fire, stirring live embers up from the bottom of the ash covered pit. The air was temperate; although none of the moisture had been lost it was beginning its shift from oppressively warm to the damp chill that commanded the night.

"Did you really interfere in their capture of the Avatar?" Chun asked quietly. "Why would you betray your own kind?"

_Why is your arm broken? Couldn't you keep up? _Shiori shot the boy a look that matched her thoughts, but he just stared back at her. She snorted and turned her head away, ignoring him. Disregarding his words, however, was far more difficult. Truly, if Master Zorin had wanted to test her resolve to follow orders without question, he would not have been able to come up with a better scenario than this.

Her mandate from the Fire Nation Prince had been clear; the fact that it conflicted with the goals of her future brothers-in-arms was very unfortunate, but unavoidable. Still, guilt ate at her. It seemed crazy when one thought about it: all this detrimental competition to capture the Avatar when the future of the Fire Nation was at stake. Who cared who accomplished the feat so long as it was done?

But.

She _had _to obey Prince Zuko's biddings in order to receive a favorable report and move on with her training, even if it meant making enemies amongst the yu-yan. It was the only way to prove that she was capable of being a weapon, one that did not hesitate or veer from its assigned target.

Shiori's resolve to pass this test of her temperament had never been challenged to this degree. It was almost comical how many obstacles had been put in her path on this almost unknown island. And yet, she would have to persevere. As Kozu had inadvertently reminded her, anything less than the successful accomplishment of her task was a failure. And Shiori could not fail.

She comforted herself with the thought that nothing bad would happen to her brethren if they were unsuccessful here. The yu-yan as a unit were far too valuable to be degraded or punished, right? Of course, one of the reasons they were so valuable was because they _never_ failed.

Shiori stared at the newly roused fire, chewing on her lower lip. So consumed by her thoughts was she that she neglected to even look up when another archer jogged into camp. The new arrival went instantly to Kozu and Hao-li, reporting loud enough in the prevailing silence for the whole camp to hear.

"The southern group received a return messenger hawk. The situation is unchanged. The Fire Nation soldiers on the island are _not_ Admiral Zhao's men. We've been ordered to deal with them if they interfere."

The words caught Shiori's attention and tugged her eyes upwards. And there they froze. She had not recognized the voice; years ago, when last she heard it, it had possessed the high timbre of youth. Now it was deeper; the voice of a man. But although his voice had changed, Keisuke's hair and eyes had not. He still looked like a fire bender born: rich mahogany hair highlighted with red in the fading light of the sun; eyes, not the ambiguous, ruddy color of her own, but truer, brighter. Her heart filled with excitement and love. Despite her bonds she sprang to her feet, shocking poor Chun, her supposed guard. But she gained her footing not to flee; no, that was now the furthest thing from her mind.

"Keisuke," she breathed out, her face distorting into such a wide grin that she knew she looked like a fool. Then, louder she called his name. Too loud; it echoed in the forest, causing a flock of birds to take flight.

All the eyes of the camp settled upon her. She took no notice. In that moment her test, her concerns about Zuko and his men, her current predicament: none of that registered in her brain. She stood, shaking slightly, her fourteen year old body an inadequate vessel to contain her joy over seeing her long absent brother once again.

His eyes flickered over her; his brows furrowed down. He was surprised to see her; of course he would be.

"It's Shiori," she added, just in case, just in case his memories of her had grown foggy with time. They had only laid eyes on each other once on Simetra, after all, and at a distance at that.

The frown did not go away; it deepened. Wordlessly her brother turned around, muttering something softly to the other two. The group of three moved a short distance away, where their words would not be so easily overheard.

Shiori felt her enthusiastic smile begin to wilt around the edges. She stood, increasingly self-conscious about being the center of attention for all except the one she cared about. A flush rose in her cheeks. She shot a look she hoped was intimidating towards the Water Tribe teens; the stupid peasants, it was none of their business anyways. Chun received a withering look of his own; he was wise enough (or foolish enough, considering that he was supposed to keep an eye on her) to find elsewhere to gaze.

Shiori dropped back to the ground. Happiness and excitement were quickly replaced by anger. He was her only true family; how _dare_ he ignore her! If she had been a fire bender, Shiori was sure that the small campfire would have become a towering inferno as it fed off her rage. Her anger was chased by a healthy dose of embarrassment, not only at her rejection, but at her personal actions.

That was it, she realized. Keisuke was probably just embarrassed because she had made such a fuss. _Of course _he wouldn't dignify her behavior with a response, he was yu-yan. She was supposed to be well on her way to becoming one too, and the yu-yan definitely did not dissolve into shrieking fangirls just because something as minor as a family member walked into camp.

Not even if it seemed like forever since last she had seen him. Not even if he was her reason for _everything._

Shiori closed her eyes, reflecting back on some of the meditative exercises she had been taught. While she couldn't quite manage to summon the calm stillness that every true warrior possessed at their core, she did settle herself down somewhat. She mentally reminded herself that she was no longer Keisuke's little sister; she was _Shiori_, the fourth year student who trained at the fifth year level. She wanted nothing more than for her brother to be proud of her, so she had to act as if passing her test was the most important thing in the world. If she couldn't manage that, she'd never truly be reunited with him.

_As equals,_ the girl reminded herself firmly. No longer Keisuke's shadow, no longer someone to be left behind or ignored; she would be his equal. A smile flitted across her face as she remembered her true motivation for following in her brother's footstep. It would not do to fall apart now, to lose sight of her goal now that she was so close.

"Shiori, rise," a voice ordered calmly.

She gazed up into the stoic face of her older brother. Her rebellious heart, ignoring her will and her mind's directives, again surged with joy. This time, however, she kept the feeling locked inside, where it could not embarrass either one of them. She rose as smoothly as her bonds allowed.

"Leave us," Chun was instructed. The grey-headband wearing trainee swiftly and wordlessly complied.

"You are here with the others, the Fire Nation soldiers who are not Admiral Zhao's men, correct?"

She saw no purpose in denying it so she responded with a soft 'yes'.

"And their reason for being here is to capture the Avatar?"

Shiori did not respond; the answer seemed obvious.

"And you are being tested in some way? You serve the others?"

"Yes."

His eyes fixated on her red headband, a color only for fifth years. Thus far his questions had lacked inflection; he could have been asking a perfect stranger direction for all his voice betrayed. But upon looking into his eyes, Shiori saw a flicker of something, some emotion hidden far better than she was capable of accomplishing. In that second, she felt a breath of fear kiss up her spine.

"By all rights we should kill you; all those who interfere with this mission are expendable. It is only because you are a yu-yan that mercy is being shown. The Avatar will be taken tomorrow. Attempt to intervene and your life will be forfeit." Keisuke paused, then his voice dropped lower, a whisper meant only for her. "You should not have come, Shiori. You should not have followed. You are not meant to be yu-yan." And with that her brother, her only family, stalked off.

* * *

As twilight fell, she and the Water Tribe sibs were concealed in one of the tents, bound together back to back and gagged. The boy struggled for quite a bit, irritating both girls. For her part, Shiori knew escape to be fruitless. There were quite simply too many yu-yan around, guarding the site in case of an Avatar appearance.

Come morning, they would take the Water Tribe siblings away, presumably unfettering only their legs and herding them to a location that favored archers over air benders. There they would stumble along, probably with their hands bound and mouths gagged, silently surrounded by yu-yan hunters awaiting the arrival of their prey.

It would be simpler, Shiori thought, to exchange the freedom of his companions for the Nomad himself. Perhaps she only thought that way because she had been traveling with Prince Zuko for so long; he had mentioned that the Avatar had almost instantly surrendered himself when the Prince and his men threatened the Southern Water Tribe village. Perhaps true yu-yan, pure weapons that they were, did not think in plots and machinations.

The girl winced, unwilling to let her mind travel too far down that path just yet. Unfortunately, much like a rhino, once given its head the thought refused to be reined in. Keisuke's hateful words echoed in her mind; she felt them like physical blows. They struck at her until she felt sick. Her heart hurt far more than her cheek and shoulder combined; it ached so much that she wished she could double over, curl up into a little ball and sob.

She had been too shocked before to properly react. Stunned into silence by the foul judgment laid abruptly and unexpectedly upon her, Shiori had simply stared after her brother's retreating back. It had reminded her of the day he had left home to begin his journey on the yu-yan path; now, as then, he never once looked back. It was nothing short of a miracle that she hadn't burst into tears right then and there. But she had been led into a tent with the blue-clad prisoners and secured to them. The yu-yan hunters had the information they wanted; she was no longer necessary. And Shiori had refused to give in to her tears in front of the other two.

Now, however, as time passed and darkness fell outside, she was losing her fight to hold them back. Hot and bitter, they spilled from her eyes. Oh, how she hated her weakness.

_Stupid Keisuke, _she thought over and over. She shouted the words in her head in an attempt to drown out his evil judgment against her, but it was his voice that prevailed, whispering softly, steadily in the background. Why? Why did everyone assume she was unfit for duty? She had been the very best of her third year class, so high were her scores that she had been permitted to take the fourth year test, which she had also passed. What more did they want from her? What more could she do to prove herself?

A thought struck at her. Maybe Keisuke, like Prince Zuko, believed that she had followed only in order to usurp his glory. If that was the case, she needed only to explain to him the truth, that it was her love and admiration for him that had set her on this path. But what would mere words accomplish? Actions spoke louder than words and her behavior thus far had earned Shiori her brother's scorn. The only way was to pass this test. That would silence her detractors permanently. It was the only way.

Her doubts, her guilt over fighting her future comrades, vanished. Keisuke had motivated her as only an older brother could. She'd show him. She'd pass this test and the final exam too. She'd watch as he was forced to eat his hateful words. And she'd wait until he apologized to her before explaining her motives for following in his footsteps.

Suddenly Shiori was glad that they were choosing to hunt the Air Nomad rather than trade for him. Hunting would take more time, which only benefited her cause. Shiori knew she would be left in the care of the injured Chun. While escaping from a camp of yu-yan was impossible, escaping from a one-armed teen who was scarcely older than she should hardly prove an insurmountable challenge.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen:**

Two pairs of yu-yan departed first, acting as a vanguard. The Water Tribe siblings shuffled in their wake, herded by a short yu-yan woman. The remaining two picked up the rear. Shiori pretended to not pay attention. As expected, they were leaving her in the company of the injured Chun. As he watched them wistfully, she kept her head down, as she would have had she been sent to Headmaster Zorin's office.

The yu-yan turned out to be pretty reasonable captors. They had allowed Shiori and the other two bathroom breaks and had even fed them a little before moving the siblings out. Shiori's hands were still bound, her legs still hobbled, but instead of being tightly tied together, a short length of rope allowed her a limited range of movement of her appendages. They probably trusted her to behave herself, and under other circumstances she might have considered it, but now, now she was ready to do whatever it took to succeed in her mission.

The sun had just finished painting the sky a multitude of colors; the golden light had reached high enough to begin filtering down through the thick foliage. The night time mist still clung to the ground, making the air chilly, so the small campfire and its welcome warmth had yet to be smothered for the day. Chun collapsed to the ground next to the campfire with a sort of graceful ease. The youngest and only trainee of the group, he was understandably frustrated at missing out on the action. All the better for Shiori to take advantage of, in her opinion.

He glanced at her and winced. "That cheek must hurt something awful. What happened?"

"One of your comrades severed my bowstring while it was fully drawn. It was an excellent shot."

"Hao-li, probably. He excels at that."

Shiori frowned. She was trying to be on her best behavior, to lull Chun into complacency. But she also needed to steer the conversation onto the right path, which meant breaking the rule of silence. It was a calculated risk, but Chun seemed amiable enough to let it slide.

"Which is your master?"

"Technically, they all are, but Paola, the shorter woman, is my actual final instructor. She's firm, harder than Shi-Yun. I think she is disappointed in me. I broke my arm the very first day."

Shiori nodded; she did not have to fake commiserating with him. "I understand. I believe I have caused my brother displeasure as well." She let the silence settle for a few minutes. Inside she was feeling the pressure of each passing second, each beat of her heart was putting more and more distance between her and her objective.

"Keisuke is… he is an excellent archer, but he has only newly been given his black headband. He did not skip a year. None of us have. And your presence here is troublesome."

The girl sighed, pretending to be saddened by that. "My bow and quiver. Are they safe?"

"Of course! You are our little sister in arms, after all. We would not destroy a fellow yu-yan's weapon."

"Are you sure? Keisuke was pretty angry with me last night." She made her voice small and uncertain, hiding the guilt and disgust she felt over her actions. Subterfuge seemed unworthy of a perspective yu-yan. _Whatever it takes, _she told herself. _Whatever it takes._

"Sure I'm sure. Want to see?"

She nodded, curled up on herself, playing up on her small and helpless fourteen year old form. Her sixteen year old 'guard', hindered by his arm, rose a lot less gracefully than he had sat, moving towards one of the tents. Paola was about to be a lot more dissatisfied with her trainee.

As soon as his back was turned, Shiori thrust her hands and legs to opposite sides of the fire, burning the short length of rope that bound them together. Spider-monkey rope, although high in tensile strength and light in weight, was extremely vulnerable to fire. She kept her eyes on Chun's back as the ropes caught, the fire licking eagerly up the strands towards her vulnerable ankles and wrists. As he disappeared into the tent, she snapped her legs and arms apart, severing the weakened strands.

_Hurry, hurry, hurry…_her mind chanted as she swiftly rose to her feet, patting out the still burning rope before seizing a piece of firewood.

Chun emerged from the tent as she began stalking towards it. His eyes widened comically, his mouth gasping out a startled 'oh'. Being yu-yan, he temporarily forgot about his sling, fumbling with her bow and quiver in an attempt to defend himself with the weapon he lived and breathed.

Shiori didn't hesitate. She charged the older boy, makeshift club drawn back. Chun belated realized that he could not make the bow work for him; he dropped it, turned, and ran. The agile girl closed the distance before he reached the tree line. A firm strike to the back of his head felled the boy, but unfortunately did not render him unconscious. He covered his head with his one good hand, body tensed for another strike.

The girl hesitated, unwilling to hit him from such a position of superiority while he cowered before her. "Surrender," she finally demanded.

The younger archer had underestimated her opponent. As soon as she drew up short, he rolled at her, kicking out with his legs, hurling a rock hidden in his good hand. Caught unawares, Shiori stumbled backwards, tripping over herself in her effort to reverse directions. As she fell, Chun's rock just missed her head.

He scrambled towards her, attempting to use his larger size to pin her down. Shiori beat at him with her stick, but she had no leverage. In desperation she scurried backwards, crablike, and then flipped in an effort to regain her feet. His good hand snagged her foot for a few desperate moments, tripping her up again, but she managed to squirm free. The chase reversed itself.

Clumsily stumbling to her feet, Shiori dashed back into camp, her one-armed opponent only a pace or two behind her. She dove for her abandoned bow, rolled as she snagged an arrow and ended up in a sitting position, with the arrow fully drawn and pointed at Chun, who froze, right arm brandishing the makeshift club she had dropped.

They remained like statues for a moment or two, only the harsh, ragged breathing breaking the silence. Then Chun, lowly, injured Chun, who could not have been more than two years her senior, curled his lip at her. "Your brother was right. You are not meant to be yu-yan."

Shiori felt her anger flash in her eyes. Chun saw it too; his sneer faded as her bowstring twanged loudly. Her arrow took his ear clean off. The boy's hand dropped his club as he howled in pain, good hand rising in an attempt to clamp it against the mangled, bloody remnants. It never made it there. Shiori's blunt-tipped arrow caught him right between the eyes. He crumpled instantly to the ground.

The girl only hesitated a heartbeat before scrambling to her feet, another arrow already drawn. She kicked at his motionless form, then danced a few steps back. Her heart thumped loudly in her ears; it was deafening, overwhelming. She felt vaguely sick. Was he dead? Had she killed him? She hadn't drawn the arrow fully back to compensate for the short range, but still… a strike with that amount of force behind it could kill someone.

Hesitantly, she neared Chun's limp form once more. Afraid that he'd move, afraid that he wouldn't, Shiori's nerves felt like they were on fire. She angled to the side, watching his chest intently. There! It slowly rose and fell. The trainee lived.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Shiori shook herself. This was no time to waver, no time to doubt. Swiftly she gathered the rest of her scattered arrows and placed them into her quiver. Giving Chun one last look, the girl uttered, "Who's not meant to be yu-yan now?"

Gathering herself, she headed out in the same direction the others had taken. She would find her brother and his compatriots and prove once and for all that she was destined to join their ranks. Even if she had to carve her victory out of their hides. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

Shiori crept her way through the undergrowth with as much stealth as she was capable. Her red headband, her pride and joy, had been removed, tucked carefully away where its bright color would not attract attention. Her face and hands were purposefully coated in smears of mud. Her quiver remained covered; Shiori was sacrificing the second of time it would take to get her hand around the oilskin in order to hide the white fletching of her arrows.

Thus far her tactics had been successful. Possessing the advantage of surprise, she had already dropped two of the outer guards, felling them from their perches with blunted arrows. Whether or not they survived the falls, she did not know. The crashes of their limp bodies seemed deafening to her; she had vacated the vicinity as soon as she had completed her shots.

Having been taught yu-yan strategy, Shiori strongly suspected that the seven archers would be surrounding the ambush zone in two loose formed circles. The weaker archers would be in the outer circle, giving them a few precious seconds more to pick their shots. The inner circle would be comprised of the more experienced hunters: Kozu, Hao-li and Paola, Shiori assumed. Keisuke and the other, taller woman remained on the outer perimeter. The problem was, the young trainee couldn't find them. And the more she moved around, the greater the risk of her own discovery.

She eased her way into the hollow center of a thicket, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly to help decompress her strained nerves. Using the tip of her bow, she gently nudged a few of the leafy branches out of her line of sight. The place the yu-yan had chosen for their ambush was a saucer-shaped grassy field, similar, but smaller than the one the Avatar's group had been camped in. She was closer than she liked to the area, far too close to be able to hunt the two remaining outer guards. She'd have to backtrack and continue to circle around in order to find her intended prey. The girl sighed, taking a moment to study the field before moving again.

The boy and girl had either managed to free their hands or had for some reason been set completely free. A few red fletched arrows protruded from the dirt near the edge of the field; obviously the two had tried to make a run for cover, only to be herded back by the threat of impending death. Now their energies were being exerted in an effort to dig a hole in the low spot of the grassy area. Shiori wasn't sure what, exactly, the purpose of that was, but they were certainly tackling the project with gusto, using a couple of flat rocks to aid them. They were already up to their elbows into the earth. She watched them labor, and then went back to scanning the surrounding area for any sign of her hidden brethren.

An exclamation of success, quickly hushed, drew her attention back to the Water Tribers. The brother and sister exchanged grins, and the boy produced what appeared to be a strangely shaped white whistle. He took a deep breath and blew into it, but no sound emerged.

Shiori frowned. After a moment's consideration, she crawled out of her hiding place. Reaching behind her, she flipped the oilskin out of her way. Something was going on; the air seemed thick with anticipation. Both blue-clad teens kept anxiously scanning the sky, though they were at least wise enough to keep crouched close to the ground, hovering around their hole.

_Foolish,_ the girl thought with a snort. They were probably planning to hide in it or something. As if the yu-yan would miss due to a small hole in the ground. She decided to ignore them. There were five yu-yan still hidden in the surrounding area, five master archers who were undoubtedly preparing to bring down the Avatar. She couldn't let it happen.

A low, reverberating groan echoed through the forest; it vibrated through the center of her chest.

Shiori's hand, hovering above her quiver, twitched. Across the field, was that movement? She stared at the suspect area intently, careful to hold herself still. If it _was_ somebody, then they would be able to spot her as well. The wind shifted direction suddenly; the trees off to the west bent downwards as if buffeted from above. The errant wind swirled around the grassy depression, swaying the obscuring foliage just enough for her to see.

It _was _movement. Hao-li, unless she missed her guess. Of course he would be closest; his injured leg hindered his ability to shift positions quickly. Shiori was sorely tempted to return his 'v'-shaped arrow to him, but practicality won out. While capable of severing rope, a bowstring was still a bit out of her league. She pulled another blunted arrow, drawing it back to her aching cheek in one smooth motion. His attention remained riveted skyward.

The wind shifted direction again. "Appa!" the two pieces of human bait called out, heralding the imminent arrival of the Avatar's furry beast.

Shiori released; her arrow screamed across the clearing, catching Hao-li right between the eyes. He staggered before falling half in and half out of the brush he had been hiding in. The Water Tribe girl gave a little 'eep' of surprise. A huge wash of wind whipped the foliage in all directions. The large, six-legged beast, fur scorched black on one side of its body, touched down. And all chaos broke loose.

A bevy of red fletched arrows immediately filled the air, raining down in the center of the field. The blue clad girl threw up her arms, a splash of water emerged from her hole, forming an ice shield to protect her and her brother. Limited by the lack of water, her improvised protection wasn't very big or strong though. The arrows that struck it cracked its surface. It was apparent that it wasn't going to last long.

The sky bison bore the brunt of the yu-yan's offensive. Fortunately for it, its thick, shaggy layer of fur seemed to keep the arrows from penetrating too deeply. It gave a bellow of rage, turning so its beaver-like tail faced in the direction of the assault.

_All one way. The arrows are only coming from one direction. _Shiori's eyes widened as she saw the trap her brethren had laid. Then there was no time for thought. She gave up on the idea of staying hidden and scrambled to get clear of the bison's blast. The beast's tail rose and fell; air screamed in the opposite direction. The unnatural gale pummeled the vegetation; leaves fell like rain to the ground. Shiori, lucky enough to be off to the side of the six-legged monster, was spared the worst of the blast.

She kept moving, kept encircling the field. If she was right, the Avatar would be coming from this direction, taking 'advantage' of the artificial opening in the yu-yan's circle.

"Katara, Sokka, you're all right!" The boy soared into view right on cue, a small flying lemur trailing in his wake. In another time and place, the young archer might have marveled at the feat, but now she kept her attention on the forest he was flying over. The arrows came, as she knew they would; two trailed rope, they struck the wood on the Avatar's glider and almost immediately tightened.

The orange glider came to an abrupt halt; the young monk, obeying the laws of momentum, tumbled forward. Without his glider, he could no longer fly, but he directed a blast of air downward, slowing his fall. One of the hidden archers took advantage of his target's momentary disorientation; a lone arrow flew directly towards the monk's bald skull. Another arrow, this one fletched in white, intercepted it.

A wave of elation sweeping through her, Shiori couldn't help but grin widely as her arrow knocked the other one off course. It was a miraculous, instinctive shot. She had never before hit anything that small, moving that fast. But there was no time to celebrate. Other red-fletched arrows followed in its wake, more than she could possibly hope to counter. Thankfully, the Avatar reacted to the danger. A sphere of swirling air surrounded him, deflecting all the missiles. They fell to the ground, which was beginning to look like a pincushion.

"Hey!" Sokka yelled as one nearly clipped him. The Water Tribe boy was attempting to reclaim his weapons from the still motionless form of Hao-li.

"Sokka, come on!" Climbing to the top of the angry, shifting beast, the girl pulled out arrows from his hide as she went.

The yu-yan changed tactics. Arrows trailing rope arched through the air; they were attempting to pin the sky bison down. Many of the arrows arched up and over the bison, burying themselves deep within the ground. A few attached themselves to the bison's large saddle. The ropes tightened as more followed in their flightpath, creating both a net and a tethering system.

The water bender used her meager supply to deflect some of the missiles, but the lack of a steady supply of water hindered her efforts. Her brother had far more success simply chopping at the ropes with the sharp edge of his boomerang and clubbing the wooden arrows into splinters. Even the Avatar's long-eared pet joined in, using its teeth to gnaw through the strands.

Shiori hesitated to assist in their efforts; while it was well within her capabilities to target the thin ropes, the problem wasn't so much the ropes themselves, but the archers releasing them. By her calculations there were four yu-yan left and they were all moving, shifting positions between each volley in their attempts to create a makeshift net. The girl felt the arrow shafts in her quiver, able to tell from the number of painted rings near the fletching what kind of arrowheads each possessed. She was in trouble; only one blunted arrow left.

The Avatar freed his glider from its tethers, twirling it around until it resembled a simple walking staff. The bison gave a roar of frustration, attracting the young monk's attention. "Appa!" he called while directing a blast of air towards the beast. It effectively knocked the encroaching arrows out of the sky, but passed harmlessly through the web of ropes already in place. The boy ran to join his friends, completely distracted from the fact that he was the yu-yan's ultimate target.

Tempted, Shiori sighted down her last blunted arrow. She could take him; it would be easy. And across the way, a very familiar face mimed her action.

She blinked; her eyes focusing on her half-hidden brother. Keisuke, her life, her light, her sun. The tip of his arrow tracked the running child; his back tensed, he was ready to strike, waiting for the perfect shot.

Shiori's arrow caught his left hand, the one holding his bow. The pain must have been excruciating, even for a fully trained yu-yan. His arrow went low, skipping across the ground, just missing the Avatar's feet and drawing the boy's notice.

"Appa, yip-yip," he cried, creating another sphere of air. This one grew larger and larger; the swirling air currents buffeted the hidden archers from all sides. The constantly shifting air pressures made it hard to breath. Shiori shielded her face from flying debris; even the tiniest particles stung as the wind whipped through the forest with a hurricane's force. The sky bison groaned; its flat tail added to the unnatural, powerful blasts of air. A few trees cracked and fell, branches flew through the air, succumbing to the gale. Through squinted, watering eyes, Shiori saw the Water Tribe boy chopping through a few more ropes as he scrambled up the bison's side; the hairy beast snapped the rest of them upon take-off. The orange-clad monk used his airbending to propel himself onto the saddle as the bison lifted off.

The windstorm ended as abruptly as it began. The silence following the howling of wind was broken only by the bison's departing moan. Feeling wind-whipped and disoriented, Shiori rubbed grit out of her eyes and popped her ears in an attempt to restore her hearing. If she had possessed a lick of common sense, she would have run. Her cover was blown, literally. The Avatar's temporary hurricane had torn apart the brushy undergrowth that had been concealing her presence. Not that it mattered anymore. They knew she was here.

Keisuke's blunt-tipped arrow returned the favor she had bestowed upon him, striking her left hand. Her bow flew out of limp fingers; she turned dull eyes towards him. Forced a tight smile. And tilted her chin ever so slightly into the air. _I did it, Master Zorin. I passed your test. I faced off not only against a group of fully trained yu-yan, but my brother as well. And I stayed true to my orders. Does that mean I'm a weapon now?_

Shiori knew in her heart that it didn't matter. She was going to die here. Her body would probably never be found, yet another casualty to the vigorous Simetra Island training process. No one would care. Not even her own brother.

She heard them coming, her execution squad. None had been untouched by the Avatar's fury; they looked as disheveled as she felt. Some were worse off, clothes torn, bodies bleeding, eyes and faces grim as they approached her. Not all were present, evidence of her earlier success. The now conscious Hao-li gave her a look fierce enough to kill. No one spoke. She had already been given her warning, her chance to survive. There was nothing more for either side to say.

Shiori felt oddly numb, disconnected from everything around her. The approaching yu-yan seemed to move in slow motion, like in a dream. _Maybe, _she thought, _I'm already dead._

The sun felt warm on her face. She forced her bruised and aching hand to find and remove her red headband from the pocket in her quiver. Suddenly, she felt like crying. _So close_. She had been _so close _to achieving her goal, to proving herself, to reuniting with her brother. And it had all gone up in flames. She wished that she had never stood out from the others; that she had never skipped a grade. But even so…with shaking hands, she tied her red headband around her forehead. It was all she had left as proof of how close she had come.

Kozu was leaning toward his gathering archers, muttering something in their ears. One took off, apparently to search for the missing archers. A thought struck the girl. Maybe they weren't going to honor her with a swift death. Maybe they would just wound her, injure her enough to guarantee that her life would dribble out in a painful, prolonged ending. Fear shattered her odd sense of apathy; it twisted in her gut, forced her to tighten her muscles lest she start trembling from head to foot.

The yu-yan did not come too close; they did not have to. A couple began freeing arrows from their quivers.

_I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry._

Paola, short and fierce, gave her a measuring look. "Is Chun alive?" she asked.

Shiori, no longer trusting her voice, nodded once. The woman nodded back and loosely nocked a red-fletched arrow.

Kozu was the last to prepare his weapon. When he wordlessly drew his fletching back to his cheek, so too did the three others. Shiori stared at Keisuke, but found nothing in his blank face to comfort her. So she closed her eyes. Her knees shook so hard, she almost fell to the ground. With a hard swallow, the girl maintained her upright stance. If nothing else, she would die with pride, a yu-yan to the end.

She heard them release, heard her death in the arrows' shrill keen. And then there was another sound, a familiar sort of roar. A wave of heat washed over her; light pierced the darkness of her tightly closed eyes. She opened them to find herself cut off from the archers by a wall of brightly dancing flames. Metal arrowheads, their shafts incinerated, struck the ground around her.

Stupefied, Shiori looked to her left, where a small group of fire benders was exiting the forest. And the one creating the life-saving barrier was none other than Prince Zuko himself.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen:**

The stress overwhelming her, Shiori's knees finally gave out. She collapsed to the earth, taking short, shallow breaths. Her stomach twisted and she felt bile burn the back of her throat.

Prince Zuko glanced down at her, the light from his wall of fire dancing in his eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

The kneeling girl nodded only once; her concentration was on keeping her stomach still and quiet. She wished with all her heart that she could be older and stronger, strong enough to face any situation with the same stoic face Keisuke had given her. But she was only fourteen and not even fully trained. Shiori stayed on the ground.

Zuko brought his arms up and then down, hands held flat and facing downward. The fire wall lowered with his hands, winking out of existence. His group of three fire benders had all assumed fighting stances. A couple of the yu-yan had them covered; the rest were scanning the surviving undergrowth, searching for any tell-tale signs of more interference. Zuko crossed his arms in front of his chest, putting on a convincing display of being at ease with the situation. Although only sixteen, he still had a commanding presence and slightly regal bearing. Or so Shiori thought from her position on the ground.

Kozu canted his head slightly to one side; he gave a subtle hand gesture and the defensive yu-yan slowly lowered their weapons. The Prince did not mimic the act.

"Prince Zuko," Kozu greeted with a nod. "We were not expecting our opponents to include you."

"She's with me."

"Obviously. But that is neither here nor there. Twice now she has deliberately thwarted our efforts to seize the Avatar. Such an act betrays not only us as her future comrades, but the Fire Nation as a whole."

"She was following orders. Isn't that what the yu-yan are all about? Following orders without question?"

"Yes, well, sadly our orders were quite specific when it comes to dealing with those who interfere with Admiral Zhao's plan. You and your men may leave, Prince Zuko, but the girl must pay the price."

The scarred teen swelled up with indignation. He clenched his hands into fists, tiny flames squeezing out between his fingers. "Arg! What difference does it make now? The Avatar is gone; killing Shiori _won't_ bring him back. She was following _my_ orders so I am responsible for her actions." His right hand shot forward, a ball of fire struck the dirt inches from Kozu's feet. "I challenge you to an agni-kai!"

The unflappable warrior did not flinch or step back. Impossibly, a ghost of a smile flitted across his face. The rest of the yu-yan seemed equally amused. "I would love to take you up on that, Prince Zuko, but we are not fire benders. However, I suppose you did make a valid point. The Avatar is gone and executing the child will not bring him back. Likewise, I cannot see any advantage to invoking the Fire Lord's wrath by harming his only son. Still, the child must be punished for her actions."

The yu-yan paused, considering his options. The girl on the ground felt the tension in the air grow with each passing second. She wanted to tell Zuko to just leave her to her fate, that he and his men would be no match for the group before them. But she was not brave enough to utter the words. She did not dare be the one to break the hostile stillness, even if she was the cause of it.

Finally, Kozu seemed to come to a decision. "As a trainee, Shiori is technically the responsibility of Headmaster Zorin, who _will_ be receiving a detailed report of this incident. She will find that the elders of Simetra lack any sense of humor when it comes to high treason. Good day, Prince Zuko. With any luck, you will not be seeing us again."

Kozu made a subtle hand gesture. The yu-yan took a few steps back and then vanished into the forest. Shiori watched them go; the act made her smile. Even after everything that had occurred she still wanted to be one of the best of the best with all of her heart. Her held breath exited her lungs in an audible whoosh. While she knew that the others could still assassinate her from a distance, she did not believe Kozu would order that action. Facing Master Zorin would be tough, but she knew that he, at least, would listen before judging.

Prince Zuko looked down at her; the lack of combat seemed to unsettle him, taking more than a little of his self-assured posture away. He looked at her, and then looked away, shifting his weight awkwardly. "We, uh, saw your flare signal, but it seems you don't have the Avatar after all."

Shiori rose slowly to her feet, grateful when her stomach stayed put. "No," she answered softly. "I never did. I'm sorry."

"But Zhao doesn't have him either."

The girl didn't respond to that. Was it enough? Would the fact that his competition for the Avatar had also not succeeded be enough to earn her a favorable report? Would Headmaster Zorin even care about Prince Zuko's words once he read Kozu's testimony? There was only one way to find out. The hunt for the air bender was over. It was time to go home.

"I need to go back to Simetra."

She was proud of herself. Her voice didn't waver. Zuko was staring off in the direction the Avatar had taken; he, like her, still had his sights set on his ultimate goal despite the setback. Maybe they weren't so different after all.

* * *

Zuko, eldest child of Ozai, banished Prince of the Fire Nation, resisted the urge to pace. Barely.

He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be steaming after the Avatar, before the child's trail got cold again. But his Uncle had put his foot down. Returning Shiori safely to her Master was _his_ responsibility, as was making a report on her performance. Nothing Zuko could come up with would sway the old man from his firm stance. And so here they were at the rendezvous point, a small, unoccupied island just outside Fire Nation waters, which had served as a Fire Navy supply depot at the start of the war.

His ship was docked at the end of a very long and rickety pier along with a small steamer that had apparently carried Zorin to this location. The girl's belongings, sans her omnipresent bow and quiver, had already been transferred. The girl herself, however, waited alongside Zuko, watching as the grey-beards talked together further down the sandy beach.

The Prince had already had his interview with Simetra's Headmaster, a short affair in which he had barely kept his impatience under control. He had fulfilled his promise and had given her a favorable review despite his many misgivings in regards to the yu-yan and their rather insane training program. The old man had insisted on talking to his uncle, though, effectively trapping him here. Well, he could have returned to his ship, but it didn't seem right, leaving Shiori just standing here alone.

If he was twitching with impatience, the girl was fidgeting with nerves. She actually did pace in brief spurts, before settling back to stand stiffly, her eyes fixated on the old men, only to resume her activity after a few minutes had passed. Her cheek and hand still sported a muted rainbow of colors. They didn't hurt, so she claimed, but initially they had been difficult to look at without flinching.

Zuko wasn't sure how he felt about the yu-yan after hearing about Shiori's interaction with her fully trained comrades. Their regimental and harsh training methods were bad enough, but the way they had been so willing to execute one of their own, a child who would barely even be considered of age in the Fire Nation, chilled him to the core. The fact that one of the archers had been her one and only brother… Zuko couldn't think about that without an image of his sister Azula coming to mind. Shiori still wanted to join them though. In fact, she seemed more determined now than ever. He had made sure of that during their voyage here.

In a way he could understand that. There were times when he wanted to give up on his search for the elusive Avatar, but they never lasted long. The engraved knife his uncle had given him long ago reminded him of his purpose, even when his spirit began lagging. _'Never give up without a fight.' _That was who he was, and that was apparently something they had in common. Still, he had to wonder if the yu-yan way was right for the younger teen. Proving that he had, in fact, _learned_ something from traveling with the girl, he kept that thought to himself.

He eyed his silent companion as she twitched next to him. "Don't worry," he said abruptly. "Uncle won't ruin your chances. I gave you a good report so you should be… _Hey!_ Are they drinking tea? Uncle promised _no_ tea!"

The sharp-eyed girl shook her head in a short, quick motion, her red-brown eyes fixated on the distant pair. "No, no tea."

They watched as the old men bowed to each other, signaling an end to the meeting. "_Finally_," Zuko muttered.

"Shiori," the wizened Headmaster summoned. "Come."

The girl set off instantly, not quite running full-out but not far from it. "Good luck," Zuko said belatedly; she was already halfway there. To his surprise she turned and bowed to him. Her mouth opened, but then she obviously thought better of it. She smiled at him, then whirled and continued on her way, pausing only to make a respectful bow as she passed General Iroh, who was taking his sweet time meandering back.

Prince Zuko ground his teeth and resisted the urge to tap one foot as he waited for his uncle.

* * *

Shiori slowed to a more respectable pace as she neared Headmaster Zorin. He had not changed in the month she had been absent. His red-rimmed orbs watched her with the intensity of a hawk, his narrow face inscrutable. She bowed low, a fist coming together with the flat of one hand in a sign of respect.

"Well, Shiori, it seems you had quite an adventure while you were away."

The girl's face blanched slightly, wondering what Prince Zuko and General Iroh had said, worrying about Kozu's threatened message.

"General Iroh and Prince Zuko seemed pleased with your service. Have you been meditating on the true nature of being yu-yan? Are you prepared for the sacrifice of spirit you will have to make in order to achieve your goal?"

Shiori's eyes widened with hope. Already this was going better than she had anticipated. Her words gushed out in a single breath. "Yes, Master Zorin. I understand now more than ever. I am ready to continue my training."

The lean man tilted his head ever so slightly to the right, regarding the earnest fourteen year old. Her ardent sincerity would be evident even to a blind man. He shook his head minutely; all the more the pity. "Shiori, after discussing certain things over with Shi-Yun, I have come to a decision. I will issue you your final exam here and now. If you pass, your training will be completed as promised. If you fail… your journey as a yu-yan ends. Do you understand?"

Shiori could feel the confusion show on her face. The answer was obvious: no, she didn't comprehend at all. Her heart, which had begun to calm itself, resumed pounding in her throat. The final exam, right now? It was unprecedented. It was completely unexpected. But what choice did she have? If it was a matter of a skills challenge, then surely she would succeed. But Headmaster Zorin had always referred to it was a test of spirit, not skills…

"Shiori, take a breath. Calm yourself."

She did as instructed; closing her eyes and reaching for the still of her inner warrior. She could do this! Her confrontation with Keisuke was all the motivation she needed to succeed. It was better this way, really. Once she passed the final exam, she would have no other obstacles in her path to becoming a full-fledged yu-yan.

"Shiori, the final exam is simple. It is a test of your spirit. If you have truly embraced the life of a yu-yan, then you will easily prevail here. Are you prepared?"

"Yes, Master Zorin."

"Very well. Kill Prince Zuko."

Shiori stared at the elder, her mouth threatening to drop open. He silently arched a wispy white brow at her, the epitome of seriousness. She turned her back on him, facing in the proper direction, her mouth suddenly dry. Her hands were shaking; her brain buzzed, screaming questions at her, too many to be individually recognized. She forced herself to swallow; without saliva, it was a painful action. One trembling hand reached for an arrow.

_He'll stop me, right? Of course he will. Once I show intent, he'll surely stop me. Zuko is a Prince…_ Unless… what if Kozu's report had detailed Zuko's role in the Avatar's escape? What if the Fire Lord had found out; what if it was _his_ will guiding this act? Then it had to be done. Shiori was no traitor.

Her hands, acting automatically, had nocked the arrow. _But that was really my fault. Why should Zuko suffer for my acts? _She knew the answer. It was because he had been her commander at the time. He was ultimately responsible and if she didn't kill him then someone else would. Another would follow the order without question and she would fail her test for nothing. In her mind's eye, she could see her brother standing there, telling her that she'd never be yu-yan. Her grip on her bow tightened.

The banished Prince and his uncle were midway down the dock, strolling casually towards his ship. The sixteen year old was the closer of the pair; the shot would be easy. Very easy.

Her master's voice from long ago echoed in her ear. _"We are weapons, Shiori. And like our bows we don't care who we've been pointed at, or why." _Finally the full ramifications of those words became clear. Finally she understood. She would not be stopped. She needed to kill her target.

Exhaling a breath, the girl pulled her bowstring back, taking careful aim down the cedar shaft. The tip of her arrow bounced ever so slightly, in time with Prince Zuko's stride. Her heart pinched tightly in her chest. With an effort, she ignored it. She _had_ to do this. She _had_ to pass. It was no different than Zuko's quest for the Avatar. There was no way back and only one way forward.

She prepared herself to release the arrow, to make it a good, clean shot, one worthy of a yu-yan. Hopefully, Zuko would never know what hit him. It was the least she could do. The muscles in her back complained at the amount of time she was taking. The bowstring felt like any little thing would cause it to slip off her fingers; as if even the slightest breeze would trigger her missile's flight.

And then she slowly let the tension on her bowstring relax. With tears flooding her eyes, she looked back to her master and shook her head. It took her two tries to force the painfully hard admission to come. On the inside, she felt like she was dying. "I'm sorry, Master," she said, her voice cracking. "I am not meant to be yu-yan."

The old man nodded and smiled at her, the act softening his hawkish features. "I know. We have long suspected that might be the case; although given your skills I admit to hoping that we were wrong. When Kozu's letter arrived, I knew it would be better to test it first, before resuming your training. We yu-yan must be ready to kill anyone asked of us, without hesitation or question. The final exam is the ultimate test of that willingness. That is why our arrows are fletched in red, to represent the blood of our victims."

There was a muted roar as Prince Zuko's coal-fired ship stoked its engines. The teen had reached his gangplank; he turned back to give her a final look before starting his ascension. Shiori turned dully away; he would never know how close she had come to committing the act.

"If I had fired the arrow?"

"It would never have reached its target." The man gave a sharp whistle; four yu-yan emerged from the overgrown field that encroached on the beach. Each had been prepared to shoot her arrow out of the sky. She was not surprised to see that Shi-Yun was one of them. Of course he would come to see his theory proven correct.

"General Iroh agreed to this most reluctantly, but the risk was very small. He himself is excellent at catching arrows. And with his fire bending skills, the Prince was never in any danger."

They were falling now, her tears. She blinked them away, trying desperately to hold on to her composure. All for nothing. Zuko had never been in danger. She had thrown her chance away for nothing. She kept her face to the ocean, so Master Zorin could not see her shame. Footsteps approached from behind; Shiori knew without looking that it would be the fifth year instructor, come to gloat.

"Shiori, congratulations."

The girl turned abruptly, anger assuaging her misery. She took a breath, wanting to yell and scream, wanting to kick and punch and share her frustration with the world. The expression on Shi-Yun's face stopped her impending tantrum in its tracks. He was sincere.

"You showed true wisdom and self-awareness that not many fourteen year olds possess. Forcing yourself to become yu-yan when you do not have the spirit of one, when you are incapable of divorcing yourself from the world at large and simply acting like a weapon, it would be a horrible mistake. That is a burden that I would not wish on anyone."

The girl blinked, anger morphing into confusion. It took several moments for her to finally get it, to finally see her instructor with clear eyes. And other things suddenly became clear as well. "Keisuke's final exam… his target was me, wasn't it?" She remembered with clarity the one and only time she had seen her brother on Simetra, how he had appeared to have just fired an arrow, how he had been staring right at her.

"He passed without hesitation." The elder archer informed her, not unkindly.

Shiori smiled a little; that she could believe, all too easily. _Keisuke, my brother, if you had been chosen to be my test, I would never have considered it. Is that what you meant? When you said that I wasn't meant to be yu-yan, were you too trying to show me a kindness?_

"He has a different spirit than your own," Shi-Yun contributed. "Not better or worse, merely different."

"Your natural skills surpass most of our students. If you continue to train on your own, there is little doubt that you will become a master in your own right."

Shiori blinked at the Headmaster in surprise. "I will not be punished for my failure, even though I was training at a fifth year level?"

"For those who complete our training and yet fail the final exam, yes, we do amputate their index finger on their dominant hand to prevent yu-yan secrets from being taught outside our organization. But you, Shiori, had only begun learning fifth year skills. You will be free to pursue whatever course in life you choose, as would any fourth year failure."

The girl winced at the last word. _I want to be yu-yan,_ her heart whispered rebelliously. But that avenue was forever closed to her now. The narrow path she had faithfully followed since her brother's departure all those years ago had abruptly come to its end; its well-defined goal, lost. Suddenly she felt tiny and alone, adrift without purpose in a sea of potential possibilities. She had no back up plan, no inkling for what direction her life should take now. Overwhelmed, she turned watery eyes to her masters.

"Cheer up," Shi-Yun instructed gruffly. "In two years you'll be sixteen, old enough to join the Fire Nation Army. With your skills you'd be an excellent scout."

"You're still very young, Shiori. You will find a path right for you," Master Zorin said serenely. "But first let's get you home."

Home to her aunt and uncle, he meant. Simetra was no longer her home. She had failed. She had lost. It was over. It was terrifying and humiliating, yet a tiny touch of relief and exhilaration threaded its way in there too. With a shuddering breath, the fourteen year old took her first step on a path of her own making.

_**To be concluded…**_


	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

Chi-fu looked like a well-fed hog-monkey as he sat on a woven rug and counted coins into a purse. His fat fingers moved quickly for their size, but Shiori had no fear of being cheated. The caravan owner was an honorable man.

"There," he said as a few copper pieces topped off her sack of wages. "And now…" He added an additional sum of coins, causing the fifteen year old to raise a brow at him. Finished, the middle-aged man sat back, clasping his hands about his ample belly. "I'm sorry, Shiori, but I'm going to have to let you go. My son's unit is returning home from its tour of duty next month. After all they've been through, rebuilding those little barbarian towns, the least I can do is offer him and some of his comrades a job… you understand."

The girl nodded. It was like this all over the Fire Nation. Soldiers and Colonials were returning in droves and jobs for someone with Shiori's limited set of skills were in short supply. Guarding the caravan had been a good match for her while it had lasted; she'd miss this job.

Chi-fu shook his head ruefully. "If I were to keep any of the guards, you'd be the one. The way you dropped that rampaging elephant-moose with just two arrows… But…" he spread his hands apologetically, "it would hardly be fair to the others, especially since you're so young. And besides, with all of these young men returning home, I'm sure your prospects for marriage…"

"Thank you, sir. It's been an honor serving you." The girl interrupted with a short bow. She took her wages and departed the tent. Although she was quiet more often than not, Shiori no longer had to abide by the rule of silence. She did not miss it much, although there were certain advantages to being still and listening to those around her.

Frowning slightly, the girl realized that she had been mildly insulted by the insinuation that marriage was a suitable substitute for employment. Not yet sixteen, she was still trying to find her path, the one that included the skills she had learned as a yu-yan without the need for her to quell her spirit and mindlessly follow orders. Guarding the caravan as it traveled the length and breadth of the Fire Nation's largest island had suited her, but with all the trained and experienced soldiers returning home it would be extremely difficult to find a similar position. With a sigh she headed for the rear of the caravan, to the pitched tent where her meager belongings were kept.

"Ah, Shiori," the one-eyed fire bender known as Khan greeted. "Did you get the ax too?"

The girl nodded, suddenly grateful that the caravan owner hadn't singled her out. She was at least a decade younger than the youngest of the other six guards; the ones nearby were all eyeing her with curiosity. Oddballs and outcasts, one or two of them were only a step above street thugs. She had earned her way into their fold with difficulty, but was now saddened that they would all go their separate ways.

Khan spat on the ground. "Jobless again, all thanks to Fire Lord Zuko. What was he thinking, ending the war like that? We can't all be carpenters and masons, building homes for the returning troops."

"Silence, you fool." Yenti, eldest of the guards, snapped. "Your stupidity is showing. The war was endless and foolish. It is time to move on."

"Just because you lost your son…"

Shiori ducked past the quarreling pair. The argument was as familiar and well worn as the patched cloth that made up the tent she entered. Every town the caravan had visited, the same argument. Different words were spoken, different reasons given to support each side, but the sentiments remained the same. After one hundred years of war, the population of the Fire Nation was uneasy about the concept of peace. The war had been such a large part of the national identity that people seemed lost without its familiar presence. Shiori wasn't the only one searching for her path; the nation as a whole appeared to be stumbling around while attempting to adapt to Fire Lord Zuko's new era of peace.

The girl sighed while gathering her sparse belongings. Her bow and quiver rarely left her side, but her supplies for making arrows needed to be packed. Her clothes were placed in a worn, but water-proof canvas backpack, her bedroll tucked on top. She divided her wages in half, storing some in her pack and securing the remaining purse of coins to her belt, next to a large knife that was used more for utilitarian purposes than as an actual weapon.

"Hey, kiddo," Natsu, the only other female guard, nodded as she entered the tent. "You get fired too?"

The young archer inclined her head in a show of deference as she spoke. "Yes."

"Too bad. I thought of all of us, you'd have the best chance of being kept on. The way you shoot that thing," the large, grizzled woman indicated Shiori's bow with a tilt of her head, "is something to see. Do you have any plans for after this?"

Shiori sat on her heels, considering for a moment. Natsu spoke before she could come up with anything. "If I were you, I'd hire myself out as a trophy hunter. I've heard that the nobles will pay big bucks for rare creatures to display in their homes and with your skills," the woman mock-fired an imaginary bow, "you could take them through the eye with no damage to the pelt at all."

"Thanks, Natsu. I'll keep it in mind."

The fifteen year old stood, slinging her pack over her left shoulder, checking to make sure it didn't interfere with her quiver. She bowed respectfully to the older woman; of all the guards, she'd miss the rough and tumble Natsu the most. The bulky woman was often crass and more likely than not to attempt to fix problems with her fists, but she had been good company.

"Goodbye, Natsu. May the Sun Spirit light your path."

"And yours as well," the older woman completed the ritual departure phrase.

Shiori smiled and turned to leave. Natsu's gruff voice chased after her. "Hey, don't go spending your wages all in one place. And stay out of bars, you're still too young."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Avoid the docks. I hear a Fire Navy ship came to port last night. You don't want to be facing off against those horn-dogs."

Shiori giggled and gave her friend a final nod. Most of the other male guards had already gone their separate ways, all save Yenti and Khan, who were still arguing. The former yu-yan trainee slipped away without disturbing them, losing herself into the rush of city folk. Natsu's fears were completely unfounded; Shiori hated cities with their crowds and noise and conflicting smells. She had no intention of remaining here any longer than necessary.

One of the benefits of her years of training was that she was perfectly capable of fending for herself in the countryside. Hunting her own food and living out under the stars would help stretch her wages too. But before she could leave the city, she needed to purchase a few supplies and to check her messenger hawk box too. Shifting her pack on her shoulders, she headed out for the marketplace.

The supplies she required were easily found and haggled for; the messenger hawk station was her final stop. In exchange for her key and some coins, she received two scrolls. Resting her bottom on the wooden steps leading up to the station, she examined her mail.

The first was from her aunt and uncle. The missive was long and chatty, a quality Shiori hadn't recalled her aunt possessed until she had been forced to take shelter there for a few months after her failure of the final exam. It took several minutes of reading to get to the gist: word had been received from her mother and father. They were expected to return home the month after the Spring Equinox.

With a frown, the girl set the letter down. She didn't really remember her parents and what memories she did possess were of Keisuke's nearly constant diatribe against them. She wondered if he knew about their impending return. Her last contact with him had been the disastrous events on Misty Island, but she still kept track of where the active duty yu-yan were serving. Surprisingly enough, it was her former nemesis Shi-Yun who kept her in the know.

After the end of the war, Fire Lord Zuko had sent the group to assist in guarding a top secret military prison, where high ranking officers and nobles who actively worked against the Peace Treaty were kept. After a bit of thought, Shiori decided against writing Keisuke directly. Her aunt knew his messenger hawk box address; she could inform him. As for her parents… Shiori wasn't sure she wanted to see the fire benders who had abandoned her, especially not as a failure.

Her heart panged and she took a moment to gather herself. Over a year had passed since her refusal to carry out her final exam. She was old enough to know that she had made the right decision, but that didn't mean that regret didn't haunt her every now and again. Taking a deep breath, she took up the other, thinner, scroll. Its wax seal indicated it had come from the Capital; curious, as she did not know anyone there. With a shrug, she slipped her finger beneath the seal and gently opened the messege.

She read the brief missive, staring in disbelief at the signature at the end of it. And then she read it again.

She rolled the scroll back up and leaned back, staring at the sky, a slightly bemused smile playing over her face. While Natsu's idea of hunting trophies for the nobles did not appeal to her, it appeared that she was going to have to make a trip to the Capital after all.

* * *

_Trapped in a room of nobles, how mortifying, _the former trainee thought with a wry smile. She didn't make eye contact with the others. Shiori had never really needed to deal with the nobility before (with two notable exceptions) so she was handling the situation as she would have had she encountered a strange beast in the middle of nowhere. Predators often found direct eye contact to be a challenge, so she was observing the others surreptitiously.

As a commoner, Shiori stuck out like a sore thumb in the waiting room. No one spoke to her, but she could feel their eyes staring at her with curiosity from time to time. Her bow and quiver had been taken at the very first check point, leaving her feeling vulnerable. Her summons as well as her name had been checked against a list over and over; the guards were apparently as confused by her presence as she was. But despite the current Fire Lord's reputation as a peace-lover, no one was going to question his whims. If Fire Lord Zuko wished to see Shiori, the former yu-yan trainee, then so be it.

With a sigh, the girl settled back in her seat to wait. Unsurprisingly, she was the last to be called. Instead of the page who had summoned the others, however, she was escorted by a tall, dark-haired young woman dressed in the fine silks of the upper class.

"You're Shiori, right?" the older girl asked in a dull, bored tone. "Follow me."

Silently, Shiori obeyed. Suddenly she missed her bow. Although the other girl emitted a cool, impassive air, there was something about her that had Shiori's instincts on edge. _It's just nerves, _she tried to soothe herself. _You're nervous about meeting with the Fire Lord. That's fine, anyone would be. You've done nothing wrong. Be at ease._

Unfortunately, she found the command impossible to follow. A part of her feared that Zuko had found out about his unwitting role in her final exam. Although she had been unable to carry out the deed, surely it was a crime to even consider plunging an arrow into the heart of a Prince. So distracted was she by her musings that Shiori had not realized that they had turned out of the main corridor, heading down a far less ornate passage. Her tall guide tapped on a door before pushing it open.

Inside, Fire Lord Zuko was in the process of having his ceremonial trappings removed. The young ruler directed a friendly smile towards the door. "Thank you, Mai."

"You owe me better than that. I'm not a page, you know." the girl replied tartly while crossing her arms over her chest. The servants, used to this sort of thing, continued with their work. Shiori, however, was shocked. Her wide eyes darted between the two until the girl softened her position with a smile, one Zuko returned with interest.

"I like her," Mai said, tilting her head in Shiori's direction. "She's quiet."

Suddenly thrust center stage, the fifteen year old stiffened. She made to bow before the ruler of her nation, halted by Zuko's abrupt "Don't." Jerking upright, she eyed the former Prince speculatively.

"Leave us," he ordered the servants. Instantly, they obeyed. He cracked his neck; apparently the crown and robes were heavier than they appeared. Drawing the taller girl to him, he gave her a kiss. "My undying gratitude for your service," he uttered, although he was unable to keep his tone completely sincere. With a roll of her eyes and a smile, Mai pushed him away.

Shiori, still standing at attention, cleared her throat. Rather than put her at ease, this display of familiarity made her feel even more out of place. The Fire Lord graced her with his attention. He looked taller than she remembered and less on edge. Perhaps it was the fact that he had stopped shaving his head, but his face seemed softer somehow too.

"Shiori, I'm glad to see you are well. Thank you for coming."

"It was my honor to be summoned, Fire Lord Zuko. How may I be of service?"

"Still not one for small talk, I see," the young ruler said with a smile. "Very well. I have a position that needs filled, one that I believe your particular skill set would fit. What I am about to tell you is top secret. Can I trust your discretion?"

The girl nodded solemnly, utterly intrigued. The Fire Lord brought forth a map.

"There is a secret tribe living in the hinterlands of the Fire Nation, right about here. They are called the Sun Warriors and they are guarding something… rather special. I'd like to establish a liaison with the tribe: someone who can travel unseen between here and there, someone who I can trust to keep secrets, someone whose skills will allow them to track and neutralize potential threats to the tribe and the secret they protect. This person will have to have superior hunting and tracking skills; the ability to keep their mouth shut and has to be able to survive on their own, without outside support for weeks on end. Plus they must be someone who can both follow orders and think for themselves.

Eventually, I'd like to negotiate with the tribe, to get them to agree to allow worthy fire benders access to what they guard. If that comes to pass, the liaison will have to guide the candidates there and back, making sure that they are not followed. Protecting the tribe's culture and secrets are of the utmost importance. The person I choose must have the highest caliber of integrity." The Fire Lord paused and looked up at his guest. "I'd like that someone to be you."

Shiori blinked, startled. Of all the things she could have been summoned to the Capital for, a job offering was one she had not considered. Still, the timing was fortuitous and the task seemed to fit not only her established abilities, but her desires as well. With a quick nod, she accepted.

"Good. You'll be reporting directly to me or to Mai. Now let me tell you a little more about the Sun Warriors. But first, tell what you know about dragons…"

_**The End**_

**A/N:**Thanks to all that stopped by and read this to the end. I appreciate the hits and the reviews, especially considering the long hiatus this story went through in the middle and the fact that it centered around an O.C. Hopefully the ending was satisfactory and not too unbelievable. Cheers!


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